Of Dragons and Destiny
by The Narrator
Summary: To whom is allegiance owed? The Empire or the Lady? Colin must choose his path as the War of Destiny begins in earnest...
1. Prolouge - The Lay of the Dragon Slayers

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Prolouge_**

_The Lay of the Dragon Slayers_

_            The trumpet sounds aloft on banner-streamed wind_

_Wake, wake, young warriors to its brazen song!_

_            Take up your sword and spear for country and kin_

_Scorn shield and sheath, our knights, for will iron strong!_

_            O'er valley and mountain, should the battle rage,_

_Fight on, young soldiers, till the day's waning light_

_            For home, for honor, for glory the battle wage,_

_Borne sure to victory by righteous might!_

_…._

_Warriors of spring's tender age hearkened battle's call_

_youths of pure spirit and steadfast courage._

_The flowers that bloom in the golden sun had not such cherished innocence._

_            As the hawk is borne aloft to vaulted heaven,_

_They rose to the skies on the wings of war,_

_            Knights of shining destiny._

_"We go to war and glory, ne'er backward looking,_

_            the awakened Dragon our foe,_

_And he will feel the bite of our silver blades._

_            We pledge life and honor to our sacred duty;_

_Destiny is our guide."_

_            Life and honor they swore to liege lord and beloved home, _

_sallying forth, a glorious company,_

_            to forge Destiny…_

_…._

_Oh fallen son of Empire proud,_

_upon far land thy life was bled,_

_in fire grim and merciless!_

_By Dragon's maw,_

_oh cruel Death, their hearts stilled!_

_On glory shrouded fall the tears of heaven…_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne_


	2. Change the Stars

Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne or affiliated characters

****

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Chapter I_**

_Change the Stars_

_"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune_

_Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them."_

_                        ~ Shakespeare, "Hamlet"_

            "Come in!" the boy called, looking up from his desk at the sound of a knock at his door.  He was expecting one of the household servants, a page perhaps, and was mildly surprised to see his father's private secretary standing in the threshold.

            "Your father desires to see you," the man said, in a tone of voice that indicated this errand was beneath him, "Now."

            The boy rose to his feet, leaving the book he had been reading open on his desk.  He suppressed a sigh, mindful of the secretary's disdainful stare, and stepped past him into the dark hallway.  His father's study was in the east wing of the manor house, so the boy had plenty of time to be wonder what in the world his father was doing that required his presence so late at night.  _Naturally he wouldn't call me earlier, during my study time; he had to wait until I was enjoying myself.  It's always business before pleasure with him._  "Education is simply too important," the boy groused under his breath.

            "I'm glad you agree with me," his father noted softly, but his orator's voice carried quite well to his startled son's ears.

            "Father, I…" the boy stuttered, blinking at the sight of his father's sturdy frame standing just inside his study, haloed by mellow gold firelight.

            "Why don't you come in, Colin," his father said, turning from the door and making his way to his desk, expecting his son to follow.  "Have a seat," he said without looking back, indicating a stiff high-backed chair that faced the desk.  It was an order, not a request.  Colin sat.  His father took his own seat behind the ebon expanse of the desk and stared across it at his son.  Colin felt, as he always did in his father's presence, that he was being examined for flaws by some impersonal and disinterested will who wished only to make use of him somehow.  He met his father's gaze without wavering.

            "How was Palas?" asked his father suddenly.

            Colin could not have been more surprised if his father's desk had turned into a dragon.

            "How was Palas?" his father repeated after several moments of silence.

            _I returned from Palas nearly a month ago.  Why is he asking about it now?_  "It was…educational," replied Colin, unsure where his father's question would lead him.

            "'Educational'?" his father echoed, a hint of mockery in his voice, "From your glowing letters about the program at the Academy, I would expect a more enthusiastic description.  You were enrolled in one of the specialized training classes, were you not?"

            "Yes, Father," Colin answered, determined not to rise to his father's tone. His father demanded perfect restraint in all of his sons and one had to be prepared to be tested whenever they spoke to him.  "Captain Hamas, the Zaibach liaison officer at the Academy, scheduled an interview for me with the Commandant to that end the day I arrived.  General Bevedere met with me and read over my file and I was enrolled in the Knight Caeli candidate program.  I wrote home about it," he could not help adding.

            "Yes, I read your letter.  You were of the opinion that the Knights had a better training program than anything the Institute had to offer."

            "Well, yes.  After all, they _are_ the most elite…"

            "Very well," his father interrupted, "I was the one who requested that you send reports about the training, remember?"

            "I do," said Colin.  _And you also said to skip any mention of anything else._  "Were the reports satisfactory?"

            "They were," his father said, nodding curtly.  He stroked his bearded chin.  "I was impressed with your progress and your accurate assessment; such impersonal observation is difficult to come by."  Colin's heart swelled at this rare praise.  "Unfortunately," continued his father, "you will not be returning to the Academy."

            Colin felt as though someone had slammed an armored fist into his stomach.  "Wh…what?" he gasped.

            "Circumstances have changed," said his father, ignoring his son's incredulous stare, "Our interests require you to leave the Academy permanently."  By including the magisterial  "our," he meant the clan.

            "What circumstances?" demanded Colin, almost leaping out of his chair.

            "That is enough out of you!" his father snapped coldly, his black eyes narrowing dangerously.  Colin clenched his fists and sucked air in though his teeth to calm down.

            "May I know why I must abandon my studies?" he asked respectfully, though rage swirled like crimson fire in his eyes.

            His father raised a critical eyebrow.  "Better," he said, "You must never let yourself give into emotion like that.  I have taught you better; passion only leads to confusion and mistakes.  Calculation, Colin!  How many times have I told you that?"

            "I am sorry, Father," Colin apologized, bowing his head so that his father could not see the anger in his eyes, "I will not be so disrespectful again."

            "See that you don't," his father counseled, "Your interests and ours are better served if you have complete control of yourself."  
            "Yes, Father."  There was a pause.  "Am I to know the reason for my leaving the Academy," he lifted his head, "or is it unfitting for me to question you?"  He braced himself for a blow for his impertinence.  _But I must know why…_

            "Ordinarily, yes," stated his father unexpectedly.  He heaved a sigh and ran a tired hand through his brown hair.  Colin noticed, for the first time, the gray streaks that ran through it and the lines that creased his father's tanned face.  _He is...old._  Colin found that he was more frightened of this fact than any rage his father could have shown him.  His father was an indomitable pillar of strength, the patriarch of their clan, as stern and cold and unrelenting as the harshest frost.  If Colin were to picture his father, it would be as a living statue hewn from the heart of a glacier, pure, flawless, having a cold fire of its own.  But now, there was a weakness, an uncertainty…

            "Father…?" Colin whispered.  His father looked at him and the mask of winter-hardened will fell over his features once more.

            "You are the first of your brothers not to enter into government service," he told Colin unnecessarily, "As you know, politics is the life blood of the Delios clan; without it, we would be weakened, the influence we enjoy would disappear, and our strength would dissipate like heat from dying coals, leaving us open to our enemies.  And we do have enemies, Colin, powerful ones.  It is a testament to our strength that they would pursue our destruction so ardently.

"I have worked hard to strengthen our position, and in turn, your brothers have done their duty for the clan by beginning their pursuit for new positions of influence that will benefit us.  It is the sacred charge of all those born to Delios to give themselves for the sake of the clan, to keep it strong and make it stronger."

"Yes, Father," Colin said as his father paused significantly.  _I know my duty as a son of Delios.  It has been my first lesson and my life as long as I can remember.  "Delios, then Zaibach," you have said more times than I can count._

"You are now fifteen years old," said his father, "and in less than a month, you will be sixteen.  It is time that you consider yourself a man, with a man's responsibility to his family.  You do not have the gift for politics that your brothers have; despite my best efforts, you are too honest, too…pure for the arena of intrigue."  The ghost of a smile on his father's lips tempered his harsh words.  It took Colin a moment to realize that there was _envy_ in his father's voice.  "Songs and stories of knights, nobility, and honor have always fascinated you, ever since your mother, may her spirit be at peace, sang you lullabies.  You were her last and I didn't have the heart to tear you away as soon as I had with your brothers.  Nevertheless, you were born for a reason."  His father's voice became stern once more.  The spring thaw that had come from his mother's memory slid back into winter.  "I realized that there had to be another way for you to fulfill your destiny.  So I encouraged you to continue with your high ideals and set them on a practical course.  The Institute and the Academy were means to an end, Colin, you must realize that."

"To what end?" asked Colin.  His heart was in turmoil; never before had his father been so open with him, treating him more like a son and less like a subordinate fit only to obey orders.  His mother might as well have not existed as far as his father concerned and Colin had only vague memories of her: the scent of lavender, a laugh, the way her eyes changed colors in the light, much like his own.  But never had his father been so honest about the nature of what Colin had assumed was his own path in life.  _Am I no better than my brothers then, a tool of my clan's…no, Father's ambition?  Is everything I believe, that honor is higher than ambition, that sacrifice is nobler than survival, is it all a lie?_

Unaware of his son's inner torment, Colin's father answered, "To achieve glory for our clan, of course.  Strength is tantamount, but glory is something our family has lacked for some time.  It is good to embody the higher ideals that everyone lauds but in practice do not fulfill.  The Knights Caeli are the most elite fighting force in Gaea, but more than that, they are the recognized symbol of chivalry."

"Then I should stay with the Knights," Colin protested, "I have already been chosen as a squire to a Knight.  Sir Bjorn…"

"Is a decent, honorable man you admire.  I understand.  You were the youngest candidate in a century to be chosen as a squire, if I recall."

"Yes."

"I was very proud to learn of that, Colin, though I did not tell you at the time.  It is a difficult thing for me to remove you from such a promising course, but it is necessary."

_Difficult for **you**?  _Colin could not help the spark of resentment that flared up at these words.

"A year ago, even before you left for the Academy, my department became involved in a secret project that required joint efforts with both the Ministry of War and the Sorcerers.  The Emperor himself set the guidelines and monitored our progress with great interest, for what we would accomplish has bearing on his intentions for the destiny of Zaibach.  The reason I am telling you this is because I want you to be a part of it," his father said.

"I thought you hated the Sorcerers," Colin remarked, "What sort of project…?"

"The time is right for Zaibach to affirm its destiny as Gaea's one superpower," stated his father, holding up a hand to forestall Colin's question, "I might deplore the methods of the Sorcerers, but take care in remembering that your cousin, Ketal, is one of them.  Without their organization…"

"We're going to war," interrupted Colin, the purport of his father's statement finally dawning on him, "Zaibach is…all the preparations, the escalations in diplomatic tensions, the break with Basram, all of it…we're going to war!"

"Yes," his father answered heavily, "The Emperor has declared that now is the time for us to seize control."

"What of our alliance with Asturia?" Colin asked breathlessly, "There was some uneasiness at the Academy when we broke off relations with Basram, but there was nothing to indicate that relations between Asturia and Zaibach were anything but friendly.  In fact, just before I left, Ambassador Einur spoke at the Academy about broadening the student exchange program between the Royal Academy and the Institute to include cross-training for up-and-coming guymelef pilots!  He spoke with me afterwards and asked how my studies were proceeding.  There was nothing…he…"

"The ambassador is unaware of the coming war," his father informed him, "Einur is a skillful politician, but he shares too close a friendship with his Asturian counterpart, Ambassador d'Morney, for us to risk informing him.  D'Morney is a shrewd observer, and it has been all that we could do to conceal the truth from him."

"But he's right here in the capital!" Colin exclaimed, "You'd have to modify…his memory."  Colin's father could not meet his son's eyes.  "Father, you didn't allow the Sorcerers to…I thought you would never approve of such a thing!"

"At this time, what is good for Zaibach is good for the clan," his father said, "I will hear no more on this!  As Minister of Internal Affairs, I am the one man in all of Zaibach who has the power to resist the Sorcerers' attempts to gain control of the Empire.  Emperor Dornkirk and his lieutenant aware of their intrigues, yet they do nothing to control the Sorcerers' rampant disobedience of the restraints the Assembly has put on them.  The Assembly might as well not exist as far as they are concerned.  It is up to me, so do not take that high and mighty attitude about things you have no concept of!" 

"Yes, father."  Colin was once more the subordinate, his father the patriarch.

"In time, you will understand why we do what we do," his father said, gazing at his son.  Colin's eyes, so much like his mother's, were lowered and they did not see the mask slip again.  It pained the minister to destroy such idealism.  Idealism was weakness, but the boy's mother had had an innocence that refused to be shaken by the brutality of the harsh, cold world around her.  Whereas her husband had crafted the core of iron and ice in his soul, she was eternally of summer brightness and warmth.  Colin, of their four sons, was most like her and kept her memory alive simply by living in the purity of the virtues she had taught him.  There had to be a way…

The hard mask once more hid the father's compassionate eyes.

"Colin, look at me," he said sternly.  Colin obeyed and the father noted that some of the pure light had gone out of his son's eyes.  "The project I was involved in is nearing completion.  The purpose of it was to create an elite fighting force whose sole purpose in the upcoming war would be to eliminate a stray element that spells certain doom for Zaibach in the Emperor's calculations.  After the war is over, this group will be elevated to heroes of the state and they will take the place now held by the Knights Caeli.  Only the best young men of Zaibach, the most skilled, the most dedicated, the most honorable, can be part of this unit.  The Dragon Slayers will become the most respected and most feared soldiers on Gaea once they fulfill their purpose and they will continue to serve the Empire into the future the Emperor has planned for us.  I want you to become a Dragon Slayer and bring glory to the clan.  Your place among them is practically guaranteed.

"Because I am the son of a minister?" Colin asked dully.

"No," his father said firmly, "The Knights Caeli have served as a model for the Dragon Slayers.  Captain Hamas has supplied us with reports as to how the Knights are trained, but you provided an insider's appraisal.  You were trained by them and you will find that the Dragon Slayers' training is based on the same basic principles, only slightly modified to adapt them to the Slayers' particular mission in the coming months.  Since you were the best student in the candidate program, you should have no trouble at all."

"Except being accepted by the other Slayers," Colin noted, "With the war so close, am I correct in assuming the training program is already under way?"

"Basic training will be completed in two days time," answered his father, "You will report to your commander right after the commencement ceremonies at Fort Prolieato, where final training will be completed."

_No matter how good I am, I will be resented.  Basic training was the most exhausting and painful experience in my life.  It also gave me deeper friendships than I could ever hope for.  I will come to them as an outsider, a privileged son of an influential clan.  If Father thinks I will ever be anything different to them, he fails to understand the word "comrade."  "Brothers we are, though no blood be shared between us, for we would gladly give our life to each other and know that its gift would have no better love than if it was given unto the angels."_  "If it is your will that I should do this, then I accept it," Colin said, rising, "Good night, Father."

Colin returned to his room in a daze.  _Not be a Knight? _ The words buzzed in his mind like a swarm of carrion flies.  He dropped into the chair before his desk and laid a hand on the leather-bound volume he had been reading.  But his eyes did not return to the words for some time.  Instead, Colin stared at the night sky visible through his open window.  The lights of the city in the valley below and the pollution from the factories drowned out all the starlight, leaving only a gaping black void that seemed in danger of dropping right on top of him.  _I wish it would._

The steady breeze admitted by the open window had turned back the pages of the book in his absence, all the way to the title page.  When Colin chanced to look down, the hand-illuminated characters, shining like gems on the cream-colored paper, might as well have been mocking him:

**_T_****_he Rolle of Honour_****__**

**_A _****_Historie of the Knights Caeli_**

It had been a gift from the knight he served as the youngest squire in a century, Sir Bjorn Mazar, presented in conjunction with an award from the Academy itself.  Sir Bjorn had signed his name beneath the title, "…so that you don't forget your old master when you become the Grand High Commander," he had said as he placed the book in Colin's hands.  Colin had to laugh at this statement, for Bjorn himself, far from old, had only been knighted two years before at the worldly age of twenty.  _Then again, the Knights always did seem to have a certain aura about them that made even the youngest more dignified then his actual age.  As for the ambition of being Grand High Commander…well, we both knew that could never be; Asturians alone could be in the Company of Twelve and only an Asturian could achieve that highest rank…_

Colin picked up the book and drifted over to the open window, his hand out as if to close it against the encroachments of the night.  The lights of the city spread out in a man-made display of garishness that made an attempt at celestial beauty.  Colin lifted his eyes to the void of the heavens and was surprised to notice the two sister moons, near setting, shining with a brilliance that defied the city below.  For some reason, they had always seemed farther away in the city.  In Palas however…

Memories like delicate butterflies danced before his eyes.

_"There are so many of them!"  Like diamond sand on black velvet._

_"What's the matter, Delios, never seen the stars before…?"_

_"Colin, I don't think I can move it.  It must be broken!"_

_"Hang on, Zev, we'll get you out of here in no time.  Here, take my cloak, it'll keep you warm until the others can get the rope down to us…"  I hope they hurry.  Gaea, it's cold..._

_"For conspicuous gallantry and disregard for his own personal safety to save the life of a comrade…"  And scaring the sense out of himself in the process…_

_"See you in six weeks, Squire."  Instead of a farewell as I boarded the airship for home…_

"So sorry, Sir Bjorn, but destiny, and my father, dictate otherwise," Colin said aloud, trying to break free of his less-than-useless reminiscing that left a bitter taste like coal dust in his mouth.  He glared down at thick book in his hands, feeling its weight as if each page were of lead. It contained all the legends and realities of the Knights Caeli, from their founding over thirty generations ago, springing from the root of the ancient (and some say mythical) Company of Immortals, to the present age.  It included pages of histories in miniature on the principle noble houses whose sons had been Knights, going back at least ten generations, the most notable being the Bevederes, the d'Morneys, the Schezars, and the Mazars.  And one particular family, almost at the very end and limited to two pages because they were not of Asturia.  Colin's fingers flew through the well-thumbed leaves and found them without even having to look down.

"The House of Delios," the heading blazed in words of gold.  And just below that, his family crest, the silver talons of a dragon grasping a gold chalice on a field of crimson.

"The House of Delios of Zaibach…" the history began.  Colin had memorized the pages and said the words aloud as he stared up at the silver and blue-green orbs that dominated the shroud of night.

"…And finally, Sir Cairnor Delios, Knight Caeli of the Second Rank, who served his father country as military envoy to Asturia and Basram.  Slain during the Treaty of Alliance by Basramian insurgents who had intended to assassinate the Asturian and Zaibach ministers of state, Lord Vincence d'Lamas and Lord Sarlas Mator.  Sir Cairnor was informed of the plot minutes before it was put into effect.  He held off the efforts of ten skilled swordsmen who assaulted the ministers' carriage they had isolated in a side street in Helfast long enough for the People's Garrison to arrive and arrest the assassins before succumbing to numerous mortal wounds.  Both men survived the attack because of Sir Cairnor's sacrifice and devotion to the tenants of knightly honor."

_Sacrifice and devotion to honor…did great-uncle Cairnor act this way because it would bring glory to Delios?  Our contributions of blood to the Knights had indeed lessened as time went on; I would have been the first in three generations.  I cannot believe that all of them were of the same mind as my father.  At least one…there had to have been one who believed…_

_"Bring me Men who prize Honor above Ambition and Courage above Pride, and I will make them Warriors without Equals."_

The words that had been engraved above the gates of the Academy obliterated any lingering doubts about whether he should become a Knight.  If at any time his strength had flagged or his pride had taken hold of him, he had but to remember the might and humility those words had inspired in him as he had gazed up at them for the first time.

But never again.  Tears stung his eyes and blurred light and dark together into twilight.  Unbidden, his fingers clawed the pages, tearing them from their place.  _Lies, lies, lies!  There is no such thing as Honor!  It has no place among men, it is something we only pay lip service to when glory is what we seek!  All lies…_  The book tumbled from his nerveless hand.  Clenching the pages in his fist, Colin shuddered and fell to his knees as burning waves of despair coursed through him.  Taking the two pieces of parchment in his hands, he prepared to rip them to shreds.  But he could not do it.  His dreams had turned to ashes and what he held in his hands was the last vestige of those dreams.  He made his decision.

The pages were laid out on the desk like the crumpled wings of a butterfly.  Colin smoothed them as well as he could, using the binding of the book, but they would forever be marked.  The boy reached into his tunic and brought forth a tube of polished ivory that dangled from a leather thong about his neck.  The dragon whose ivory scales curled around it stared at him with its single ruby eye.  Colin drew out the silver stopper and used his finger nails to draw out the rolled piece of paper that was inside.

His mother's poem fell to the ground unheeded as Colin swiftly folded the pages in half lengthwise and then rolled them into a single small roll.  The parchment was placed in the seal case and the silver stopper was replaced.

"You'll keep them safe, won't you," Colin whispered to the dragon, "You'll protect the honor of my ancestors until one of my descendants can claim it."  He stared at the dragon's ruby eye until it seemed to wink at him.  The ivory seal case was returned to its former place.

"As for these…" Colin said, picking up the discarded poem and the book.  He looked about his room, briefly considered the fire in the fireplace, then looked once more to his desk.

The secret drawer at the base of the desk sprang open at the touch of the small bronze lever.  The book and the poem were laid in there, on top of some old poems Colin had written and hidden from his father and the drawer was shut on them for the last time.  Colin wrenched the lever out of its socket and threw the piece of metal out his window.

It was finished.  Everything that might deter him from his chosen path had been locked away, to be forgotten.  Breathing heavily, Colin collapsed on his bed and stared up at the blank ceiling.

_May I serve my clan well and may our true honor someday be reclaimed.  _The boy fell asleep.

"Father?"

"Ah, Colin, come in, quickly."

"Father, the airship is about to leave…"

"Yes, yes, I know, but there is one last thing I must tell you before you go.  Shut the door and sit down.  Last night, your cousin, Ketal, delivered some vital information to me that I've been trying to get my hands on for the last two weeks.  It is your future commander's file."

"File?  What sort of file?  Father, does this have anything to do with your cooperation with the Sorcerers?"

"It has everything to do with it.  Dilandau is the only reason why Sorcerers were included in the project in the first place.  Take this."

"This file has the seal of the Sorcerers on it.  Ketal took it from their lab?"

"From the most secure vault, I might add.  Don't look at me like that Colin.  I have every right to have the Sorcerers arrested for neglecting to give me the full contents of this file."

"But you won't because Ketal would be killed if you did."

"I'm not so cold that I would have one of my kinsmen murdered for no reason.  In time, when the Sorcerers are not aware, I will strike the blow that will destroy them.  For now, read the file."

" 'Name: Albatou, Dilandau. Rank: Captain, Special Forces Command (promotion pending).  Serial number: 8902-65…'  This is his military records.  Other than that he's under the SFC, I can't see why this is anything more than classified."

"Turn to the red folder marked 'top secret'."

" 'Experiment No.: 000-89-23.  Name: Albatou, Dilandau.  Facility No.: 109.  

SPI (Subject Prior Identity): Schezar,…Celena.'  Celena Schezar?!  But that's not possible!  She disappeared ten years ago!"

            "Look at the date."

            "05-09-81. Gaea, that's…that's less then a month after she supposedly disappeared!"

            "I was aware that you knew Sir Allen Schezar, but I was not aware that he had given you so much information concerning the disappearance of his sister."

            "He never told me about it.  Sir Bjorn did.  He warned me not to approach Sir Allen on a particular day and then explained that it would be the ninth anniversary of Celena's disappearance!  And all this time, she was here…"

            "Colin, do you not understand what that file means?  Celena no longer exists.  It was from her that the Sorcerer's derived Dilandau."

            "How?  Did they kill her?!  How do you get one person from another?!"

            "Colin, sit down and listen to me!  It was discovered that to arrive at Zaibach's ideal future, the entire course of a person's life, including their identity, had to be changed."

            "I had heard rumors…children taken from the streets, orphanages, experiments so horrible that…"

            "It is a necessary evil.  None of those children had any future and others, well, they were not of Zaibach."

            "How many died?  How many were slaughtered for the sake of our future?"

            "Do not concern yourself with them.  Your task is to become a Dragon Slayer.  I am only showing you this to give you some perspective on your commander.  Read that attached report and you will understand."

            " 'Subject shows sadistic and destructive tendencies that must be focused on efforts for the state if his capabilities are to be fully exploited.  May develop emotional imbalance over time.  Has shown instability under duress and in extreme cases, devolution to his SPI.  Precautions will be taken to prevent this…'  So, if I understand this correctly, Dilandau reverts to Celena if he is in danger.  I thought he was the perfect warrior."

            "You must understand that the Sorcerers were perfecting Fate Alteration technology at that time and it was only five years old.  Dilandau has been the only fully successful result."

            "Turning back into Celena doesn't sound like much of a success."

            "That will only happen as a result of extreme trauma, both physical and emotional.  Colin, I know I told you that you need to reject the Knights, but perhaps you can use some of their teachings to help your commander."

            "Such as?"

            "I might have scant knowledge of chivalry, but I know that it involves defending maidens somewhere.  I want you…"

            "To protect Dilandau as I would a damsel?  Father, not only is that insulting to my future commander, it's demeaning to the principles of chivalry.  But if that is your will…"

            "It is."

            "Then I will defend him by my oath as a kni…Dragon Slayer."

            "Very good.  Finish reading the file, then go to the airship.  I don't you to be late."

            "Yes, Father."

            "And Colin…"

            "Yes, Father?"

            "Stop talking like a knight.  You have no idea how many might take offense to that, including your commander.  And you might want to pack those daggers of yours in some other place where they won't be found so easily."


	3. The Path Altered

Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne.

****

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Chapter II_**

**_The Path Altered_**

_"Two roads met in a yellow wood…and I, I took the one less traveled by._

_And that has made all the difference."_

_                                    ~ Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"_

            Colin waved to the pilot of the airship as he ran out onto the airfield.  The man was an old hand in the Zaibach airship fleet and took his job as a pilot of troop transports very seriously.  When Colin had approached him during their flight, the pilot had been amazed at the boy's genuine interest in the control of the craft, asking questions that showed some familiarity with piloting.  The old pilot was only too happy to regale the youth with tales of his flights during the Alliance Wars, which were two generations in the past.  All too often boys and even experienced soldiers mocked transports for their less-than-glamorous roles.  But Colin had been different.

            "Good luck, lad," the pilot mouthed, giving the boy a thumbs-up as he lifted off.  Colin waved until the airship vanished in the blue vastness of the unclouded afternoon sky.

            "Are ya goin' to stand there all day or are ya going to get yourself into the wagon?" a deep, brusque voice demanded behind him.  Colin slewed around and found himself staring up at a giant of a man, whose uniform jacket bore the diamond insignia of a sergeant.  Without a word, the man bent down and picked up one end of Colin's trunk.  Colin picked up the other end and the two of them maneuvered it into the cargo space beneath the floor of the wagon.  The sergeant jumped into the driver's seat with agility surprising for a man of his bulk and picked up the reins.  He stared down at Colin, who hadn't moved.  "Are ya waitin' for a special invite?"

            "No, sir," Colin said quickly.  Yet he made no move toward the wagon.  "Sir, may I ask a question?"

            The sergeant frowned, as if suspecting that the boy was mocking him.  "Go on," he said, in a voice that dared Colin to speak.

            "Sir, did any of the other…candidates get a ride to the fort?" Colin asked from the position of attention.  He knew from experience never to make assumptions about the character of people he had just met, especially those who would exercise control over him.  The sergeant might have a gruff voice and manner, yet he had helped Colin to stow his trunk when it would have been just as easy to let him do it by himself.  But one could not take such kindness for granted.

            The sergeant raised an eyebrow.  "No," he answered, "Their trunks were loaded onto wagons, but they marched the six miles to Fort Prolieato; no sense in coddl'n boys who know what's expected of soldiers."

            Colin nodded.  "Then I will march, sir, if it is all right with you.  I too know what's expected of a soldier."  He felt his heart throbbing in his chest but did not let his gaze waver.  _Don't give them anything they can use against you.  I might not have trained beside them, but I won't act like their rules don't apply to me._

            "Very good, very good!" laughed the sergeant after several moments of tense silence.  He slapped his knee with his broad hand and smiled down at Colin.  "Yer a clever 'un at least, that's for sure!  I can't be sure yet, but ya don't act like some lordling whelp.  I can see ya've had some proper trainin'."

            "Yes, sir," Colin replied, not relaxing one bit.  _That was one hell of a gamble there; I thought for sure he would bawl me out._

            "Ya can stop actin' like I'm gonna take these reins to ya," the sergeant said with a wink, "Out here in the Wilds, there's no'un to see us talkin' friendly like.  If yer bound and determined to walk, then at least let's start headin' in.  I'll keep the horses for a nice pace."

            "Th…that's not necessary, sergeant," Colin said.

            "That's Sergeant Kane Berenger to ya, boy.  And don't worry; I wasn't plannin' on going the entire way with ya.  There's been talk a'plenty at the fort 'bout ya and I want to know the truth for meself."  Sergeant Berenger chirruped to the horses and Colin had no choice but to follow.

            "What's been said about me?" he wanted to know.  He had to trot to keep abreast of the driver's seat for the horses were surprisingly spirited for draft beasts.

            "It's been told that ya was gonna be one of them Heavenly Knights.  If I heard right, you'd be carryin' on some sort of family tradition."

            "Yes," Colin said with a sigh.

            "Well, ya don't have to be so down-hearted 'bout that," Sergeant Berenger said, "The Dragon Slayers are goin' to teach those Knights a thing or two 'bout bein' soldiers, you'll see.  'Course, there's been tales that yer father bought ya a place at the Academy."

            "What?!" Colin exclaimed indignantly, "Tell me who said that and I'll ram those words down his throat with my fists if he can't stand up to me with a sword!"

            "That's 'bout what I expected from ya," the older man replied, "There's no doubt about the true measure of yer spirit.  I can tell yer goin' to be a right good soldier.  It'll take the other 'uns a little while to warm up to ya, is all.  Not everyone's a good a judge of men as my humble self.  Give it time and prove yourself."

            "I knew it was going to be hard," Colin said, looking off into the forest encroaching on the road to his left, "I have a feeling that everyone's expecting some fop who can't find pour water out of a bucket with instructions written on the bottom."

            "'Effeminate pansy' is the title I've heard most often," Sergeant Berenger admitted, "but that'll go away the moment they set eyes on ya."  Colin sensed the man was being less than truthful, but did not challenge it.  It was reassuring to know that he had at least one friend already.

            "Thanks," he said.

            "Yer welcome," replied the sergeant.  He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked up at the sun.  "There's not much for ya to see in the Wild," he said, "except for trees, hills, and more trees, but enjoy them while ya can.  I'll be returnin' to the fort now.  There's a fork in the road 'bout two miles ahead; take the one going to the left.  Report to yer commander the second yer admitted, got it?"

            "Yes, sir," Colin said.  Sergeant Berenger chucked the reins and urged the horses to a fast trot.

            "Don't go and get yourself eaten by no dragons!" the sergeant called over his shoulder as he disappeared in a cloud of swirling, chalky dust.  Colin coughed and ruefully eyed his clothes, which looked as though a measure of flour had been tossed on them.

            "Dragons, huh?" Colin muttered as he began walking, brushing the dust from his dark blue tunic and black pants as best he could.  "Good afternoon, Sir Dragon, isn't it a pleasant day for a stroll?  What's that?  So sorry, I've already made a luncheon appointment, thank you very much."  He laughed at himself, knowing he sounded more than a little crazy.  He picked up the pace, getting into a steady marching stride.  On his right he heard crackling leaves as something (hopefully a squirrel or a bird) zipped through the underbrush.  His ears strained to catch any other sound, but were only rewarded with the sighing of the wind through the tops of the trees.

            "Hm…" Colin grunted, more than a little nervously.  It was so quiet, he could _feel_ it, as if the presence of the ancient forest, its countless seasons, were weighing down on him.  _What's the matter, afraid of a bunch of trees and shadows are you?  This is no different than the field training you had at the Academy, you twit.  Stop imagining things._

            Colin began to whistle, tunelessly, an "I-don't-care" message to whatever was lurking in the forest.  _I thought I told you to stop imagining things!_

            "Since when do I give myself scoldings?" he wondered aloud.  "Oh, great, now I'm talking to myself."  He shrugged and began whistling again.  The whistling soon evolved into one of the marching songs Colin had learned at the Academy.  It was quite long and Colin reached the fork in the road as he finished the last chorus.

            "…company by company, we ride out at dawn, and we won't come back till the battle's won, hey!"  He halted just before the fork and considered the two branches.  The left fork, the one Sergeant Berenger had told him to take, was as well-worn as the rest of the road, deep ruts showing where countless of wagons had passed.  The right fork, in comparison, faded less than a stone's throw from the main road, becoming little more than a deer run through the forest.  Colin peered down that way as far as his eyes could discern, and then raised his eyes to the distant mountains, blue and wreathed in low-hanging clouds.  A tiny black speck, probably an eagle, drifted across the whiteness before being swallowed up by the sky.

            _I wonder what it would be like to be like that, flying over mountains, having my home on the highest cliffs, always above the world, looking down at the tiny, squabbling men whose problems are so insignificant next to the vastness of the sky.  I would ride the wind, and be free…_

"The poet said to take the less-traveled road, so I suppose…" Colin took one step onto the right fork, then another, "If I were a poet, I would follow this road, until it took me…" Colin continued walking until the white surface faded into worn dirt and grass.  At that point, he stopped.  "But I am not a poet."  He gazed toward the mountains.

            _To be apart from this world, all its meanness and evil and darkness.  To be free to wander where I will, be it valley or mountaintop, to be…free._  Colin shook his head, dispelling the sweet tempting words.

            "I am not a poet, I am a soldier, and a soldier desires only to do his duty and dreams only of honor and glory.  I am a soldier."  These words fell like lead from his lips, heavy and final.  Colin turned on his heel and strode back to the main road.

            "The path has been altered once; it shall not be again."  The left fork was before him.  He took it.

            Fort Prolieato stood upon a short, man-made plateau.  The fort itself was not very large by modern standards, but then it had been built centuries ago before the advent of guymelefs on Gaea.  Its thick walls and impregnable gate were meant to withstand the sieges that had been the mode of war in that distant time.  Its design would have allowed a company of a hundred men-at-arms to effectively withstand an army many times greater; the underground storehouses and the spring which had no other opening could not be accessed by a hostile force and ingenious tunnels, all but forgotten in this age, would have allowed additional supplies or reinforcements to be smuggled in with comparative ease.  The forest, for a circumference of a mile around the fort, had been cleared so that no enemy could approach its walls beneath a screen of protective leaves and branches.  But this too had been in the past; the forest was once more gaining control of the lands it had lost.  Colin gazed at it from his vantage point atop a small hill about a half mile from the gates.  Its four towers were rounded and slitted with narrow windows for archers.  He could tell by these towers that the original owners had not been from Zaibach, as such roundness would have been out of place with the strictly angular architecture common to the empire even from its oldest roots.

            The Wild had once been the scene of mighty battles and glorious campaigns.  Who knew how many times the fort had changed hands or how many had had their bones laid to rest on this nearly forgotten piece of land?  Colin felt a thrill in his heart as if he could hear the call of the trumpet or see the bright banners ride forth in glory.  Such a fort had been in many of the ancient tales his mother had told him, about the far off days when the world had been simpler.  Such forts could also be found in the legends of the Company of Immortals, the noble knights from whom the Knights Caeli had traced their origins.

            Here was a place that kept alive the days of the old warriors, those whom Colin felt a closer kinship with than any family of blood.  Here too, perhaps, he would be made one of a glorious shining company.  Colin smiled, a fierce, proud smile, as he took off at a run to cover the distance that separated him from his goal.

            "Colin Delios?" the young man asked from the door of the small room.  Colin immediately snapped to attention, even though the other boy was very nearly that same age and garbed in the same manner as he.  The sunlight from the room's only window glinted on the other's glasses as he looked Colin up and down, his expression unreadable.  "The commander will see you now.  Follow me."

            Colin got in step behind his guide, who led him down a short passageway to a massive door crafted of oak bound and studded with black iron.

            "What's your name?" Colin asked him reached out to knock on the door.

            The other ignored him and rapped twice on the wood.  "Listen to me," he hissed, not turning around, "You will enter this room only after the commander invites you.  You take five steps into the room and bow with proper respect.  You will address the commander as 'Lord Dilandau,' and you will leave only after he dismisses you."  With that, he about-faced and left Colin standing alone in front of the door.

            _That was not what I expected.  "Bow with proper respect"?_

            "Enter," commanded a voice from behind the door.

            Colin laid his hand on the dragon's head that formed the doorknob and turned it, pushing into the room.  He took the prescribed number of steps forward and fell into the genuflecting bow of the Knights Caeli, right knee and right fist to the ground, left arm on left knee, head lowered.  

            _Hope this is respectful enough.  Why is it so dark in here?  Stuffy, too.  He must have all the windows closed for some reason.  _

            Colin sensed rather than heard Lord Dilandau approach him and raised his head slightly to catch a glimpse of his new commander.  An armored hand slapped his right ear, knocking him sprawling.

            "Did I tell you that you could look up?" the voice hissed coldly.

            "N-no sir," Colin answered, recovering instantly.  He kept his head bowed and tried to keep his breathing calm and even.

            _What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

            "Get up," Lord Dilandau ordered.

            Colin rose hurriedly and snapped to attention, his eyes caged straight ahead and unblinking.  Lord Dilandau narrowed his eyes and examined his newest subordinate.  He seemed unaware of Colin's own avid scrutiny.

            _Red eyes, can't really tell if his hair silver, gray, or white; damn this dim light.  That must be why he has all the windows closed, because he can't stand too much sunlight.  Taller than me by at least two finger widths, I'll bet. I don't know too much about, _"...may develop emotional imbalance…" _but I'd say he's already got one up on them.  We'll see about the other things…_

            "Why weren't you on the wagon that was supposed to take you back here?" Lord Dilandau asked as he slowly began circling Colin.

            "Sir, the answer is that I wanted to march like everyone else did, sir," answered Colin.

            "Is that so?" Lord Dilandau fairly purred, coming around to face Colin again.

            "Sir – yes, sir," Colin answered, unnerved by the barely concealed hatred he saw in Lord Dilandau's eyes.

            Colin's head snapped back as Lord Dilandau dealt him a backhand that rattled his teeth.

            _Should have seen that one coming, saw it in his eyes._

            "I am not some idiot who needs to hear things twice!" Lord Dilandau barked, "You say 'sir' once."  Lord Dilandau turned away in disgust.  "Or do you think I am an idiot?"

            _Say something, get slapped; say nothing, get slapped.  There's no way I can win this one.  Got to love your options._

"No, sir."

            The first fist caught him in the stomach, knocking the breath from his body, the second caught him on the left side of the head, knocking him to the floor.

            "Of course I'm not an idiot!" screamed Lord Dilandau, "How dare you think that I need your opinion!"

            Colin pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly before coming to attention.  He made his face perfectly impassive, refusing to give his commander any satisfaction.

            "Report to the supply office and get your issue," Lord Dilandau ordered, as if nothing had happened, "You will be in inspection order by breakfast tomorrow.  Understood?"

            "Yes, sir."  

            _Probably expects me to ask what the hell he means by "inspection order," but that's what dorm mates are for.  With any luck someone will be nice enough to take pity on the new guy…hopefully that other one wasn't representative of all._

            But Colin knew, even as he executed a simple military bow and about-faced, that it was very likely he had gotten the most cordial welcome the privileged son of a noble family could expect under such circumstances.

            He reflected on his new commander as he made his way down the spiral staircase that would take him to the inner courtyard.

            _A few bats short of a belfry, that one.  I suppose that answers any doubts I had as to "sadistic."  Perhaps he reserves such treatment for climbers like me; if not…Father, you have underestimated the evil of the Sorcerers and they have underestimated their own creation. _

            Colin reached over his over-loaded wheelbarrow and opened the door to the candidate dorm room.  The door swung back noiselessly on well-oiled hinges, nudged along by the front end of the barrow.

            _I really hated being a pain about the barrow, but there was no way I was going to take the one they use for carting manure in._

            The blankets and sheets that had lain precariously atop Colin's trunk chose that instant to slide off.  Colin made a futile grab at them, but the entire pile fell to the floor.

            _I hate gravity._  With a sigh, Colin let go of the barrow and stooped down to retrieve the items.

            "What would we do without it, I wonder?" a voice inquired behind him.

            Colin started and turned around on his heels, coming face-to-face, or more accurately, face-to-knee with whoever had snuck up behind him.

            _Didn't think I said it out loud.  _"Well, if there wasn't any gravity, nothing would envy the birds, not even the mountains," Colin rejoined.  _Where the hell did _that_ come from?_  Colin raised cautious eyes to the speaker's face.

            Cold grey eyes stared down at him, hard as granite.  Colin tried not to laugh at the sight of the white streaks that ran through black hair.  "So, you think you're funny or something?" the newcomer demanded.  

            "No," Colin answered, put off by the other's tone.  _Whoa, take a deep breath there; no need to get any fights on your first day.  _He got to his feet, extending a friendly hand.  "My name is Colin."

            "Delios," said the other boy, spitting out the name as though it had a horrible taste.  He ignored Colin's hand.  "I am Ahren Dempsey, and I am in charge of keeping order in the dorms.  While we remain here at Prolieato, you will report to me.  Right now, you will prepare your things for an inspection."

            Yes, sir," Colin said.  _What we have here is a boy who thinks he's got the right to pile crap on me whenever he feels like it.  I don't think we're going to be friends._  He and Ahren glared at each other, neither willing to break the lock.

            "Hello, you must be the new guy!" blurted a voice behind Ahren.  A small boy who looked no older than ten pushed past the taller youth, his face beaming and his hand out towards Colin.  "My name's Chesta, but you can call Ches, all my friends do!"

            "All right," Colin said, more eagerly than he meant to in Ahren's presence.  He shook Chesta's hand and realized that the boy was older than he had seemed at first glance.  _Judging from that accent, he's probably from near the Asturian border.   At least he doesn't seem to be holding any grudges against me._  Colin smiled, a genuine smile of relief and gratefulness.

            "Thuban!" Ahren barked, "You were supposed to be at weapons training with the others…"

            "Sergeant Berenger sent me up to help the new guy, er, new candidate to get his things in order," Chesta interrupted, "You can take it up with him if you want."  His frank aqua eyes met Ahren's gray ones without wavering.

            "Fine, whatever," Ahren snorted, waving a hand to indicate he was through with both of them, "Get him ready for the inspection tomorrow and don't dawdle.  I expect you to be up to speed on how we do things here by the evening meal, Delios."  With that last veiled threat hanging in the air, Ahren left the dorm, slamming the door shut behind him.

            "Is he always like that?" Colin asked before considering whether or not to speak.  But Chesta, he sensed, was someone he could trust.

            "Ignore him," Chesta answered, shaking his head, "He's been anal retentive ever since Lord Dilandau made him the section marcher.  Let's get your sleeping area in order."  Chesta bent down and took up the bed clothes, then began walking to the far end of the long room.

            There were two rows of uniformly made beds on either side of the room.  On Colin's left, high, narrow windows let in the fading light of the sun.  Chesta stopped beside the last bed on the right side, a bare, thin mattress on an ancient metal frame that was little more than a glorified cot.

            _Charming accommodations._  Colin noted that the mattress sagged visibly in the center and was spotted with a generous amount of unpleasantly colored stains.  _I don't even want to know what that stuff is._

            "Put your trunk at the foot of the bed here," Chesta said, pointing as he tossed the linens on the neighboring bed.  He picked up one sheet and shook it out as Colin deposited his trunk in the prescribed place.

            "I'll take this end," Colin said, holding the sheet down at the foot of the mattress.  Chesta deftly tucked in the excess material under the head of the mattress, then folded neat triangles on either side.  He was about to start on the second sheet when Colin stopped him.  "There's a little trick I learned about making inspection beds…"  He grabbed one of the blankets and laid it down on top of the second sheet.  "Can you hold the top there?"

            "Sure," said Chesta, following Colin's direction good-naturedly.  Colin pulled blanket and sheet tight, then tucked it under, finishing the job with the same precise corners Chesta had folded at the top.  "This way you don't have to do the corner-folding twice," Colin explained.

            "Wish I had known about that trick in basic," Chesta replied sourly, "Would have saved me no end of trouble.  Let me take a look at your trunk; the bed's fine, but the trunk is what they'll get you on during the inspection tomorrow morning."

            "Hey, thanks for helping me like this," Colin said as he popped open his trunk.

            Chesta knelt down in front of it.  "No problem," he said as he began taking folded shirts, socks and other things out and setting them the floor, "Unfortunately, you folded everything wrong, so you're going to have to do it all over again.  I'll help."  
            "Thanks," Colin said again.  He watched Chesta refold a shirt and copied him.  "So what's this inspection like?  Up at the crack of dawn, cadre shouting in your face and the like?"

            "Sounds about right," said Chesta.  He grimaced.  "I plan to sleep on the floor tonight so I won't have to worry about remaking my bed."

            "Good idea; I think I'll be joining you."

            "So long as you stay on your own side."  Chesta laughed.  "So, how do you like being a smack so far?"

            "'Smack'?" Colin repeated, mystified.

            Chesta grinned sardonically, which was a rather interesting expression for such an innocent face.  "Yeah, smack.  I would have thought you got it already."  He pointed to Colin's red cheek.  Colin automatically touched it and winced at the memory.

            "Whose demented mind came up with that one?" he wondered.

            "Me," Chesta said simply.  

Colin rolled his eyes, then looked over at the vacant beds.  "So who's all in this unit?"

"There are sixteen, counting you and me.  Over in the window row, starting closest to the door, is Ahren Dempsey, who you've already had the pleasure of meeting.  Next to him is Arnor Matthis, then Dalet Shanaz, Cyril Balin, Migel Lavariel, Ryuon Brielle, Raul Wakiza, and finally, Gatti Leala."

"Leala…that name sounds familiar."  Colin's eyes went wide.  "You mean General Leala's son is part of the Dragon Slayers?"  _The "Glorious Hunter," General Commanding the Eastern Army, General Oberon Leala, his son is a Dragon Slayer?_

Chesta nodded, somewhat amused by Colin's amazement.  "Yeah, he's a friend of mine.  Over on this side," he continued without a pause, "starting at the door is Viole Muscatine, Bern Gervase, Myr Tellamon, Guimel Schaffer, Yan Hebrun, Damon Baird, me, then you.  And that's all of us."

"I still can't believe that Leala's son is going to be one of you," Colin blurted after a while.

"One of us you mean," Chesta said, reaching for the last item in the trunk, a pair of socks.  His hand inadvertently brushed against a camouflaged button built into the bottom.  "What the…?"  There was an audible "snick!" and the body of the trunk shifted several inches to the left, revealing a space built into the false bottom.  There was a glint of gold in the darkness.  "What's this?"

            Colin put out a hand to stop him, but Chesta had already drawn out the gleaming dagger. The sunburst crest of the Knights Caeli blazed on the crosspiece.  "So it's true," Chesta gasped, "You were a Knight Caeli."

          "Almost," Colin said with a sigh.  _I didn't even think of throwing them away; what possessed me to bring them?_

            "Aw, come on," Chesta retorted, "You expect me to believe that?  The Knights don't just hand these things out, everyone knows that.  Did you save someone's life or something?"

            "As a matter of fact, I did," Colin admitted, surprised that Chesta had known.

            "Tell me about it," said Chesta, drawing the dagger from its dark blue enamel sheath and testing its edge.

            "Er, um…it wasn't like I was doing anything really brave," Colin told him, recalling the way his heart had pounded in his throat as he stood on that narrow ledge with only empty air for fathoms below if he fell.  He hadn't been able to walk straight for nearly an hour after the others had dragged him and Zev back up to the top of the cliff, he was shaking so hard.  Colin blushed at the memory.  _I don't want that story circulating around here; that will just set me even more apart from the others._  "Hey, aren't you a little young to be in the Dragon Slayers?"

            "I'm fifteen, and don't try to change the subject," Chesta said, raising an eyebrow.  Most people were quick to dismiss him as someone easily pushed aside but those who knew him knew that he was more tenacious than a hound on a good scent.

            "Well, it happened during survival training," Colin began, "My 'patrol group' had been sent on a reconnaissance mission into the uplands…"

            "So you set his leg right there on that ledge, even with the blizzard coming?"

            "Yeah; it was possibly one of the scariest moments in my life and you couldn't pay me enough to get near the edge of a cliff or tall building for about a month afterwards.  Thank Gaea I finally got over it.  It would rather embarrassing for a guy who's about to become one of the elite of the elite to be afraid of heights."

            "That's nothing.  I used to be terrified of cockroaches…hey, quit laughing!  Those things are ugly as sin and they're disgusting and they skitter around like…I said quit laughing!"

            "Hahahahahaha…eheh…sorry, Chesta, but you have to admit…wahahahahaha!  Look, I'm sorry; I'll stop.  How did you get over your phobia then?"

            "We had a fair amount of field training in basic, the whole deal with the tents and the sleeping outside that you had to go through.  You would not believe how many bugs there are in the Wild!  Anyway, I was in the tent I was sharing with about ten other guys, rolling up my sleeping bag, when I find this _HUGE_ roach that had probably been in the thing since I had gone to bed the night before.  I kind of…screamed…and threw my bag half way across the…you're laughing again."

            "No I'm *snort* no I'm not.  Hee hee…I'm _not_ laughing.  I told you my story, so you owe me one."

            "Fair enough, I suppose.  Unfortunately, Lord Dilandau hears me and storms into the tent, royally pissed off and demanding to know who had screamed.  One of the guys points to me and Lord Dilandau gets in my face and orders me to tell him why I had been screaming like a little girl."

            "Did you tell him?"

            "What else could I do?  I told him about the roach and he gets even more pissed and yells at me for being a coward and so on.  This goes on for about five miets when he suddenly stops and stares over at my bag.  He reaches down and picks up the roach.

            "'Is this the thing that made you scream?' he asked.

            "'Yes, sir,' I say, not liking the look in his eyes.

            "He just looked at the roach for a moment or so and then he…he popped the thing in his mouth and ate it!"

            "What?!  That is so…I don't believe you.  There's no way Lord Dilandau would do something like that!"

            "I swear I'm not making it up!  He chewed it up and actually swallowed, and he didn't even look grossed out.  One of the guys, Myr, got sick and puked, but Lord Dilandau acted like he didn't notice.  He just kept staring at me.

            "'Candidate Thuban,' he said.

            "'Yes, sir?'

            "'You will leave the camp and look for another bug.  When you find that bug, and not before, you will return and show it to me.  After I have seen the bug, you will eat it.'"

            "Did he really make you eat it?"

            "What do you think?  Of course he did!  And he made everyone else find a bug and eat it too, because we're all supposed to be part of a team, and that's what teams are supposed to do."

            "So what did it taste like?"

            "Like a big, ugly, parasitic, spindly-legged bug!  I try not to remember, but at least I was able to keep it down; almost everyone else got sick.  I wasn't the most popular person after that little incident, you can imagine."

            "I can bet.  So are you still afraid of roaches?"

            "No, but I'm really glad Lord Dilandau hasn't figured out my other phobia."

            "Which is…?"

            "Snakes."


	4. The Course Chosen

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne._

****

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Chapter III_**

**_The Course _****_Chosen_****__**

_"Only the Strong Survive."_

_                        ~ Basic Cadet Training, USAFA_

            "Pain, much pain," whimpered the first of the boys entering the dorm.  He promptly collapsed on the nearest bed.

            "Get your lazy butt offa my bed," Ahren snapped without much energy.  The other boy made a very rude gesture at him and did not move.

            "Get off, Balin," Viole said tiredly, "before he goes and tattles to Lord Dilandau."

            "Hey, Cyril," Migel called, "You're bed's right over here, you know."

            "Mind your own business, Lavariel," Cyril replied, but he pushed himself off of his "superior's" bed all the same. 

            "Ten…miles," Chesta gasped as he collapsed on his bunk, not even bothering to take off his armor, "In full gear too.  I thought we were done with that sort of stuff."

            "Yeah, right," snapped one boy across from him, "You're too much of an optimist, Ches.  Hey, Gatti…"

            "What is it, Raul?" sighed the young man walking past him at that moment.

            "You owe me ten," Raul said, "I told you that Dempsey was going to make the new guy run orbits the whole way."  He ignored Colin, who had been the last boy into the dorm and was just now lying down on his own bed.  

"I'm surprised the new guy hasn't left yet, since he knows Ahren's not going to stop until he breaks him," Arnor remarked, overhearing Raul.

            "Uh-huh," agreed Dalet, also talking as though Colin was not in the room, "Too bad Lord Dilandau made him give him water at the halfway point."

            "Yeah, too bad."

            "I remember, back _in basic_, when Lord Dilandau used to run with a sack of lead weights.  And he still ran faster than any of us."

            "And whenever someone dropped behind, he had to carry the sack.  Pity Lord Dilandau's gone soft and decided to keep those weights to himself this time.  I remember that only Yan never had to carry them."

            "Unlike you, I can actually run," Yan observed from his place nearer to the door, "My clan might not be _noble_, but at least we are willing to do our full duty and not rely on privilege.  I earned my place here, just like everyone else."

            "You mean, _almost_ everyone else," corrected his neighbor.

            "Ah, yes, thank you, Damon; I almost forgot about that."

            "Hey, we're being rude to the new guy," Ahren said loudly, a mocking smile matching his tone, "Why do all of you insist on talking about things he has no idea about?  That is very rude and we shouldn't be rude to someone who's good enough to become one of us without having all that behind him."

            Colin, facedown on his mattress, clenched his jaw, but otherwise did not move.

            "Don't listen to them," Chesta whispered, "They're just tired and sore, like anyone else would be after that run."  But he could not help but note how Colin's body had gone rigid with anger as all the other youths began joining in what had become nearly a daily ritual of abuse.  Colin had become the scapegoat for their anger, and though they were not allowed to touch him, their words were doing more damage than any blow by fist or sword.   Raul and Gatti, Chesta's closest friends, remained indifferent towards him out of respect to Chesta, but all the others followed Ahren's lead. Colin never responded, never made any sign that they had any affect, yet his spirit was slowly poisoning itself under the constant cruelty.

            _Bastards…so you think I'll allow myself to be broken by the likes of you?  I had to give up everything so that I could obey Father's command.  I have nothing left, not even my pride, for I know as well as any of them that I cannot prove myself to them, no matter what Sergeant Berenger said.  I must fight them, I cannot surrender…"A Knight feels not the bite of the arrow nor the sting of the slur, for a Knight of true heart feels not the pain, only the desire to continue on in the face of adversity."  "My honor cannot be affronted by any man less honorable than I."  Words, slim comfort perhaps, but in my heart, I know that I'm a Knight.  I must be a Knight if I cannot be a Dragon Slayer.  Try me, you bastards, I'll kill anyone of you that think you can beat me, whether sword, dagger, or fists.  I'll kill the first one who touches me, I swear I'll kill them with my bare hands.  I'll kill them, I kill them, I'll kill…_

            Chesta, unaware of his friend's immanent breakdown, reached over and jogged Colin's elbow, whispering, "Hey Colin!  One of the cadre just came in and he's talking to Ahren and he keeps looking over here at you with the biggest smirk…!"  Suddenly, Chesta found himself jerked to his feet, his arm twisted in a fashion that would have been extremely painful if he had not been so concerned about the iron grip that was constricting his throat.  All he could see was blue, a deadly, hating, pain-filled slate blue as some demon glared at him with the twin fires that were its eyes.  Dimly, over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, he could hear what might have been shouts of protest and anger and fear.  He pulled frantically at the claw around his neck, even as his vision darkened.  A shudder ran through the demon, which turned its eyes away to glare and snarl at the fool who attempted to interrupt its vengeance.

            "C-Colin?" Chesta wheezed as he recognized his friend.  Colin turned back to him at the sound of his name, uttered in the barest thread of a whisper.  He shook his head, staring as if he was not completely certain who Chesta was.  Suddenly, his eyes changed to a more normal green-gray.  With a cry of horror, he released Chesta, who sank to his knees, gasping for breath.

           _What have I done?_  Colin stared down at his hands, gulping air as if he had been the one who had nearly suffocated.  _WHAT HAVE I DONE?!_  A keening noise like some beast in torment tore its way out of his body, causing the other boys to back away in dismay and terror.  They had seen Colin inexplicably attack the only one of their number who could be called his friend; if his friend was not safe, how would he deal with his enemies?

            "Delios, front and center!" Ahren ordered, coming back into the dorm.  He was grinning ear to ear over the information he had just received.  Colin, numb as he was from shock, obeyed.  The crowd gave way, as if his insanity were some leprous disease that could be spread to them by his touch.

            "Yes, sir?" Colin said, stopping in front of Ahren, not daring to look into his eyes.

            Ahren was mystified; he had worked long and hard to break Colin like posing, privileged son-of-a-whore that Ahren knew he was, and all of a sudden, it had happened without his knowing?   Ahren glanced at his compatriots, who were staring at the humbled figure before him with wide, horror-struck eyes.  What had happened to cause this sudden change?

            "Sir, you wished to talk to me?' Colin said in a voice that was a ghost of its former confidence.

            "Yes, but only to tell you that Lord Dilandau orders you to report to Training Room Three on the double with your sword," Ahren replied, smirking at the knowledge of what was to come.  It was a tempting thought to finish of Colin right now, where he stood, but there would be consequences if Lord Dilandau ever heard the he had interfered.  And Lord Dilandau always found out.

            "Pardon me please, sir," Colin said, walking around Ahren submissively.

            Ahren watched him go, praying for all that he was worth that Lord Dilandau would be forced to kill him.

            Colin knew the way to the training room by heart and allowed his feet to take him there while he merely came along for the ride.  _What kind of monster am I?  I could have killed him.  I would have killed him!  I would have choked him to death unless he had…unless I had not heard…I can still feel that way his throat gave way under my hands!  I'm a monster!  I don't deserve to live…Perhaps Father saw this and that's why he stopped me from becoming a Knight.  Or maybe this was the only way I could learn what kind of a person I really am…no, not a person, a monster…I don't deserve to live…I must pay for my sin…a life for life, it is only fitting, the only honorable thing…_

Colin pushed open the door to the training room but did not enter.  He saw that Lord Dilandau was already waiting for him, his back to the door, standing in the center of the room, a black and blood statue.

            _Death has many faces, after all.  In the end, Father, I _did_ die for Celena and for Zaibach._

            "Enter, Delios," Lord Dilandau said.  Colin did not move.  Lord Dilandau turned slowly and glared at him, furious that Colin had disobeyed a direct order.  He was about to scream an order at him when Colin raised his head and looked at him, meeting him eye-to-eye.  Lord Dilandau had witnessed more death and dying and pain than even he could remember, but the suffering contained in those dead gray orbs was enough to make him pause.

            Lord Dilandau had not approved of Colin's inclusion in the candidate pool for the Dragon Slayers.  He knew all about Ahren's systematic psychological abuse, but he did nothing to stop it.  Not only was he certain that Colin would never be accepted by the others, he also sensed a connection, as indirect as it was, that linked this son of a minister to the hated Sorcerers.  The Sorcerers had made him what he was, that was true, but there was little love lost between the creation and the creators.  Lord Dilandau had intercepted every single one of Minister Delios' letters to his son and reading the demands for reports on the treatment and training of the Dragon Slayers had not improved his opinion of Colin.

            But if he was reading Colin correctly, it must be that revelation had finally dawned on the young man.  Now would be a perfect time to get rid of him.

            "Enter and draw your sword," Lord Dilandau ordered simply.  Colin stepped forward and carelessly slid the weapon from its sheathe, holding it in such a way that any person with a modicum of experience would have seen that he was giving Lord Dilandau every opportunity to strike him down.  Normally, Lord Dilandau would have been insulted and slain his opponent on the spot, but first he had to humiliate Colin; it was only justice. He was also interested in seeing whether he could provoke Colin into a real fight.  The fame of the Knights Caeli as swordsmen was known all over Gaea, and what better way to test this than to face one of their former protégés?

            _Come and kill me if you want…what better way is there to atone for my sins and regain my honor then to be killed by Zaibach's mightiest warrior?_

Lord Dilandau made a powerful sweep at Colin's sword arm, intending to disarm him in the first blow.  He would not waste his skill on one so determined to die.  Automatically, as if his arm was acting of its own free will, Colin's blade met Lord Dilandau's, parrying it away from his body.  Once this action was committed, however, Colin returned to his former indifferent state.  Lord Dilandau pressed the attack once more, giving Colin plenty of time to react and dodge the blow aimed at his head. 

            _Is this all you have to offer?  Come, Lord Dilandau, show me the skill that has made you the perfect warrior you are supposed to be.  I suppose it is hard for this noble son to forget his pride so easily after all, but I will not be killed in a manner more suited for thugs in the streets._

            Lord Dilandau saw the green flash in Colin's eyes, though it only lasted for an instant, and knew that he had touched some nerve.  The only logical step would be to make Colin attack.  Stepping forward on his left foot, he feinted toward Colin's left side and then thrust at his exposed torso.  Colin narrowly missed being gutted by a hairsbreadth by whirling out of the way at the last possible moment.  Even as he spun, his sword came up, knocking Lord Dilandau's blade high into the air.  He had only to complete his turn and follow through with his own thrust and the duel would be over.  Lord Dilandau saw it all in a flash and rolled under Colin's blade as Colin went on the offensive for the first time.

            "When I saw you standing in the door, I could have sworn you were coming here to die," Lord Dilandau taunted as he circled Colin, who was forced to move or be stabbed in the back, "But now it seems you've changed your mind."

            _Not changed, not by far…justice must be served and honor must be restored… you must kill me because you have no other choice.  Every meeting of blade on blade is one more time that I have kept Death at bay.  I could just as easily fallen on your sword and ended it, but that would mean that all of my guilt would be forever erased, too soon.  If I must attack you to convince you of your duty, then so be it._

            Colin launched himself at Lord Dilandau, driving him back ten steps by sheer ferocity before he was able to respond with an attack of his own.  Lord Dilandau grinned with satisfaction at finally having succeeded in forcing Colin into a rage.  He would let the charade carry on for a little while longer before he finished it.

            Suddenly, Colin dove at his opponent, coming low and fast under Lord Dilandau's blade.  It was a suicidal tactic, for Lord Dilandau's reflexes were almost catlike, but Colin had reached the limit of his ability to endure the memory of his crime.  Lord Dilandau was taken nearly completely by surprise and was only just able to shift out of the sword's path.  Colin followed through completely with his thrust, exposing his entire backside.  He shut his eyes and emptied his lungs of air, anticipating the killing stroke.

            _And so ends the life of this pale mockery of a man…the heavens have scorned the shooting star that was but a show of light, burning up into nothing for its own brilliance…_

But the blow did not fall.  Colin kept moving forward by virtue of his inertia before coming to rest not five paces from Lord Dilandau.  Somewhat bewildered, he turned toward his supposed executioner, wondering what in Gaea had stayed Lord Dilandau's hand.

            Lord Dilandau was not interested in Colin at that moment, for he was too absorbed in staring at the blood on his fingers.  "First blood," he gasped, hardly daring to believe it.  The sting in his side, where the keen edge of Colin's blade had cut through his armor, was undeniable evidence however.  Lord Dilandau stared at Colin, who seemed to have been brought back to himself by the shock of having defeated his commander.

            _I…won?  How could this be?  I am less skilled and I wanted to die.  I have robbed myself of an honorable death…if the best warrior in Zaibach cannot give me satisfaction, there is only one other way…_

Colin fell to his knees.  Holding his sword parallel to his forearm, he readied himself to drive it into his own body.  _Life for life…_  

            *SCHING!*

            The blade, buried in the floor on the far side of the room, shivered like a silver arrow that has just hit its mark.  Colin stared down at his empty hands in shock, then looked up in wonder and puzzlement.

            The point of Lord Dilandau's sword hovered less than a fingerwidth from Colin's throat.  Crimson eyes glared down at him with hatred.  "Your life is mine, Delios!  I am the only one who can take it from you!" Lord Dilandau shouted.

            _So, Death, you have not abandoned me after all.  _Colin did not answer, but merely tilted his head back, exposing his throat even more.  _End it now or return my sword to me…_

            Lord Dilandau blinked in surprise before his face hardened with rage.  This boy had come to him with death in his eyes and yet he had defeated him. The gap separating Colin from death narrowed almost imperceptively.  If he was killed, then it did not matter if he had won.  "Your life is mine, to do with as I will!" Lord Dilandau declared.  Even now this fool desired death, was willing to deny him the true victory by forcing him to slay him.  Lord Dilandau was torn between the desire to kill and the desire to exact a sweeter revenge.  And there was also…respect.  Colin had shown no fear, had accepted death without hesitation, as only a true warrior could have.  Lord Dilandau was a monster that had known little mercy at the hands of the Sorcerers and knew even less of showing mercy towards others.  And yet he found the desire to let Colin live.  His decision was made. 

            "Get up," Lord Dilandau ordered, sheathing his sword.  He strode over to where Colin blade jutted from the floor and pulled it out.

            Colin got to his feet, his legs trembling from adrenaline letdown.  _Did I see that?  Were my eyes just playing tricks on me or was it some delusion from being so close to death?  I could have sworn that I saw…he _changed_ for an instant, but then his face became cruel again.  And yet I could have sworn that I saw something else there, a light, an innocence…but it could not have been…_

            "Come here," said Lord Dilandau softly.  Cautiously, Colin approached him.  "I do not like you, Delios," Lord Dilandau said frankly, "I don't think I ever will.  But tonight I will spare your life, even though you defeated me, because I want you to owe me your life.  Your life is mine, it has been ever since you came through the gates, but tonight you must accept that fact.  You are a Dragon Slayer, and I am your lord.  There will come a time when I will challenge you again, and I _will_ beat you.  I return this sword to you, Colin Delios of the Dragon Slayers."  With a simple, elegant gesture, Lord Dilandau presented Colin the hilt of the sword.

            "Lord Dilandau," said Colin, "My life is yours.  I will freely accept death from your hand, for I am not worthy to live."  Colin knelt and bowed his head.  "Allow me the death of a soldier, for I do not deserve the life of a Dragon Slayer."

            "I imagine that Ahren Dempsey would have liked to have heard those words," Lord Dilandau said.  Colin jerked his head up in surprise.  "I know what has been happening under my command, Delios.  It was a simple matter for me to ignore it when I thought you were unworthy.  It will end tonight.  Take up your sword and follow me."  Colin rose and took the weapon from Lord Dilandau's hand.

            "Chesta, are you sure you're all right?"

            "I'm fine, Gatti!  Stop asking me!"  Chesta glared at his two friends, who backed away defensively.

            "Easy, Ches, we're only worried about you," said Raul, "That nutcase almost killed you!"

            "And what drove him to do that, do you think?" Chesta demanded, "All of you have been torturing him non-stop since he arrived!  You never even gave him a chance!  You knew he would break soon, you allowed it to happen, and now you're surprised.  He's gone to get himself killed because he believes he's done something wrong!"

            "Um, Ches…" Raul started hesitantly.  But Chesta interrupted him.

            "He's my friend!  I know him for what he is, and he is not some cold-blooded killer!  Colin deserves to be one of us because he is one of us!  How else do you think that you got away with that incident with the spears?  Corporal Hanbion would have given you twenty lashes!"

            "I…I…" Raul stuttered.

            "Ches, you don't mean that Colin…?" asked Gatti.

            "Why else do you think he could barely get out of bed a week ago?" snapped Chesta.

            "He took the fall for me?" gasped Raul.

            "Yes, because he knew that Hanbion had it in for you and that you would have been beaten till you couldn't walk anymore.  He would be willing to do that for anyone here, even Ahren!"

            "I can't believe it.  What kind of a guy would do that sort of thing?"

            "All that stuff about him becoming a Knight, I mean, no one is really like that anymore," said Gatti, bewilderment plain in his tone, "All that junk about chivalry and honor, that's only in plays and story books."

            "Well, obviously, Colin believes in it!" said Chesta, "He believes in it so much that he endured everything without a word.  How long do you think anyone can do that before they snap?  I hope everyone's happy, because all of you have just sent probably the last true Knight Caeli to his death!"  The dorm remained silent after this last outburst; even Ahren would not dare to say a word.

            The door swung open, revealing Lord Dilandau standing just outside.  No one could have known how long he had been there; his face revealed nothing.  But how could he have not heard Chesta?

            "Room, tench-_hut_!" Ahren barked.  Everyone came to attention.  Lord Dilandau walked into the room.  Colin entered and stood behind him, not meeting anyone's stares and looking as though he had just been brought back from the brink of death.

            "Let it be known that Colin Delios has reached the rank of Dragon Slayer.  He has taken his sword as a sign a fealty, something all of you will one day do.  I will leave it up to him to divulge the circumstances of his promotion."  Lord Dilandau looked sideways at Ahren, who blanched.  "Candidate Ahren, you will report to me one hour after the evening meal."  His voice was soft, but it was the softness of a deadly fog.  "That is all," said Lord Dilandau, exiting the room and leaving Colin the center of everyone's attention.

            Colin, his face deadly calm, slowly swept the room with his eyes, meeting everyone's gaze.  Most looked away.  When Colin came to Chesta, his stoic façade crumbled somewhat.  Chesta shook his head and offered his hand to Colin in friendship, as he had that day a lifetime ago.  Colin blinked, afraid to believe that he was being forgiven, but Chesta came forward and touched his shoulder.

            "I'm your friend," he said, "You must forgive yourself."

            "I don't think I can," Colin whispered, but some of the life returned to his face.

            Raul stepped forward, his hand running through his hair as sign of his trepidation.  "I…I'm sorry for the shitty way I've acted," he blurted, "I know you'll probably hate me for life, and I deserve it, but Chesta told me what you did for me and I want to thank you.  I know that won't get rid of what's been done to you over the last couple months, but I just wanted to say…I'm sorry."

            "I should have said something before," Gatti spoke up.  He strode towards Colin, his face grimly set, and bowed in the style of the Old Army.  "I trace my lineage back at least as far as your family's and I know of the honor that binds all of us in blood.  I stood by and let a brother be torn apart.  I am sorry, and I will regret my misdeeds until the day my name is no longer among the living."

            Colin returned his bow.  "Let it be known that no son of Leala was any less noble than any son of Delios.  Since I am forgiven, I forgive.  Let no more be said about this, for we are all brothers here."  

            "Halt, who goes there?"

            "Colin Delios, sir.  I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be up here…"

            "Colin?  So it's you that's been scarin' the life out of the night watch!  They've been sayin' down at the guard house that a spirit's taken a liking to the dorm rooftop and some of the more cowardly have even refused duty.  I took it upon meself to look into this little matter and now I find they've been scared of nothin' more than a little boy out wandering past his bedtime!  Now what are ya doin' out here at this time of night, Colin?"

            "I…I just wanted to look at the stars."

            "Look at the stars?"

            "Well, they're really so beautiful and I can't see them from the capital, so I…"

            "Ya've been out star-gazin' every night since ya've been here?"

            "Well, most nights that I could get away, at least.  I'll be getting back to the dorms now…"

            "Don't be off so hastily, now!  I heard ya got a promotion, so to speak.  So, Lord Dilandau's made ya a Dragon Slayer, has he.  Thought that was a secret, didn't ya?"

            "I had no idea…how did you know…I mean, I haven't told anyone really…"

            "Colin, one thing you learn pretty quickly 'bout the Army is that nothing's a secret and gossip goes around faster than an outbreak of soldier's sickness.  With not much else to do 'sides talkin' and listenin' for orders to come down, it's just natural."

            "Oh."

            "So why exactly do ya find star-gazin' so much fun?"

            "Like I said, they're so beautiful and…I don't know.  I guess I wonder about whether it's true or not that we can read our destinies in the stars."

            "Eh?  Are you talkin' 'bout that astronomy stuff that the Sorcerers are supposed to deal with?"

            "Is it astronomy?  I always thought it was astrology."

            "Don't matter no how, since I think being able to tell a person's future is a load of…er, nonsense."

            "Maybe, but then, what do call what our Emperor is doing but deciding our future for Zaibach?"

            "Now that's not fortune-tellin', that's just good management.  He's put this country on the right course and he just uses "destiny" to make it easier for the ignorant to swallow larger taxes and having their sons sent off to foreign wars.  Now, don't look so startled there; I've had a long enough life as a soldier and a man to know how the world works."

            "I hope I never become that cynical."

            "I doubt it; you have the eyes of an idealist."

            "And a fool?"

            "Ya were the one who said it, not I.  So, which one's yer favorite?"

            "Pardon?  Oh, right…um, I really like that bright cluster of blue and red stars up there."

            "Ya mean the Company of Twelve?"

            "So that's how they got their name!  I always wondered!"

            "I take it ya don't know the naming of stars.  Well, I not so good at it meself, but over there, to the west, the Cradle 'bout to set.  That one me mother always pointed out to me durin' the summer.  And up there, ya see the purplish-looking star?"

            "Yes."

            "That's the bottom of the Sword.  The three stars going up from it this way form the hilt, those two the crosspiece…"

            "And those five white stars are the blade, right?"

            "Yep.  And it you go 'bout a fist's distance up from the point and two over to the right, yer gonna run into the Vigilant Guardian.  That really bright star is his finger, which always points true north.  So, if yer ever lost, just look for him and he'll set ya straight."

            "I'll remember that; thank you, Sergeant Berenger."

            "Yer welcome.  Colin, don't think I'm pryin' but what are ya goin' to do now, seeing as how yer a Dragon Slayer 'head of everyone else?"

            "Do?"

            "I know 'bout how they've been treatin' ya.  I would've put a stop to it if I hadn't known it would have gotten worse for ya or gotten ya thrown out."

            "I understand.  I've already decided to let things lie between us.  The past is dead, as far as I'm concerned, if they're willing to forget it, too.  I'd even be willing to be friends to most of them, they're good men."

            "Most of them?  Which ones would you not like as comrades?"

            "One, really."

            "Ahren Dempsey, he was the ringleader in all of that, wasn't he."

            "How…never mind.  No, I will never be his friend.  I will fight beside him if that is what my lord orders, but beyond that…no, I think I will hate him for a long time."

            "Are you so ready to hate?  I thought you were a better man than that."

            "You can't be serious!  After what he did to me?  The others, they followed him and though I know they were wrong, he started it all.  He bore me malice ever since before he even saw me."

            "I'm not askin' ya to make him yer friend, but I think ya should understand a little bit 'bout Ahren before yer so ready to hate him.  Ahren's father was a friend of mine.  I was his best man at his weddin'.  He and his wife were so happy together and they had a big family, too big I thought, to support on a sergeant's pay.  Anyway, when Ahren's mother died, his father went a little crazy with grief.  He turned on his children and Ahren, the oldest though he couldn't have been more than seven, did what he could to protect them, even if it meant standin' up to his father.  I won't go into details, but it's a right shame that a man could be so cruel to his children.  Course, I learned all of this years after it had happened, when the Ministry of Social Welfare took those children from their father.  Ahren had already gone to the Institute, but it's only been two years since all his brothers and sisters were split up.  Ahren survived, but he came out with less than an innocent's view of the world.  He's angry because he couldn't fight his father and he takes out his anger on those he thinks haven't earned their place through sufferin' and sacrifice.  When ya came along, a noble's son who got into the Dragon Slayers through his father…"

            "I think I can see your point, Sergeant Berenger.  I never once thought about _why_ he hated me, I just knew that he did.  I guess I didn't want to find out because then I'd find out something about him that would…change my mind about hating him, if that's possible."

            "Has it?"

            "Perhaps…I don't think I'll be able to hate him now, at least."

            "Whatever ya do, don't show pity; he would take it as ya lookin' down on him."

            "Why?"

            "How else would ya take it?"

            "True.  Thank you for being my conscience, Sergeant Berenger.  I think I'll go back now.  Good night."

            "Good night, Colin."


	5. Flying and Flight

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne._

****

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Chapter IV_**

_Flying and Flight_

_            "Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,_

_                        And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;_

_            Sun-ward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth_

_                        Of sun-split clouds – and done a hundred things_

_            You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung_

_                        High in the sunlit silence…"_

_~ John Gillespie McGee, Jr., "High Flight"_

            "You are far too cheerful for this early in the day," Colin said to Chesta, trying not to nosedive into his bowl of watery gruel.  His bleary eyes roved down the table and he saw that many of his dorm mates were in the same predicament.

           "What can I say?  I've always been a morning person," Chesta replied, putting another spoonful of gruel in his mouth.  "You know, if you think really hard, you can pretend that this is oatmeal with good thick cream."

            "Yeah, except that the cream's curdled and the oats have been rolled in chalk," griped Raul, sitting opposite of the two friends.

            "You're just grumpy because Lord Dilandau made you call minutes this morning, Wakiza," Chesta said.

            "Two hours before breakfast was supposed to start!  Can you believe it?  And we were already waking up two hours early to begin with."  Raul rolled his amber eyes, free of leftover sleep because he had been awake so long.  "Thank you so much for reminding me!"

            "Hey, Gatti!  Wake up!" Colin bellowed in his seatmate's ear.  The blond jerked his head up, which had been dangerously close to settling in his still-full bowl.

            "Huh, what?" Gatti snorted, looking about him as if he didn't know where he was.

            "You were about to fall asleep in your food."

            "My hero," Gatti said sarcastically, "And _this _is not food, not by any stretch of the imagination."

            "What is the nature of this, if it is not food?" Colin asked, as if posing a philosophical question.

            "That's easy," said Gatti, "it's the stuff they collect from the repairs they're making on the fort.  And since the army's so economical, they figured they might as well feed it to us, seeing as how it's so full of the nutrients growing boys need."

            "You sound like my mother," Chesta grunted, "except for the part about building leftovers."

            "Well, what do you think it is?"

            "Poison," Raul said seriously.  Suddenly, his eyes bugged out of his head and he clutched at his throat, making small gagging noises.  His body jerked around as if all the muscles had suddenly started to spasm.  With a strangled cry, he fell off of his seat and disappeared underneath the table.  The other boys waited boredly for what was going to happen next.

            "See, I told you it was poison!" Raul said, his dark blue head popping up from beneath the table.

            "You know, that would be funny if you didn't do it every day," Colin pointed out as Raul resumed his seat.  None of the other boys in the dining hall paid any attention to Raul's theatrics.

            "Shows how much _you_ know," Raul retorted.  He sighed dramatically.  "I would have been Zaibach's greatest actor if my father hadn't sold me into slavery when I was but a lad of tender years.  'The thrice three muses mourning for the death of learning late deceased in beggary.'" 

            "' An' he had been a dog that should have howled thus -- they would have hanged him'," Chesta rejoined. 

            "Wakiza, he enlisted you in the army."

            "I know!  And I was only seven!"

            "All past regrets aside," Colin interrupted, "we still don't now what this stuff is."

            "I know what it is!" another boy farther down the table burst out, "It's  sh…!"

            "Sh!"  A multitude of voices shushed him as the room came to attention.  Lord Dilandau had just entered and was glaring down at them from the raised dais at the end of the hall.

            "You men might be wondering why you have been woken up so early this morning and doubtless many of you have been grumbling about it," Lord Dilandau began, "But let me be the first to inform you that you will not only thank me for doing this, you will almost certainly wonder why you could not have dispensed with going to sleep at all."

            "Doubt it," Colin heard Raul mutter.  Colin agreed with him, but he was burning to know what exactly Lord Dilandau had up his sleeve.  The commander never did something unless it was for a reason, and his motives seemed sadistic at best most of the time.

            "Look around you," Lord Dilandau ordered, "Go on!  Look!"  The boys obeyed, shooting puzzled glances at their neighbors.  Raul crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at anyone who looked in his direction.  "When your training began, there were over two hundred of you.  This entire room was filled with boys who desired to become Dragon Slayers."  Dilandau's voiced echoed in the cavernous hall.  "There are only fifteen now."  He let the solemn weight of his words sink in before he continued.  "Some left because they were weak and could not handle the physical, mental, and emotional demands that I had placed on every single one of you.  Others were injured and could not complete the training.  A few paid the ultimate price attempting to reach the highest honor of serving Zaibach.  I ask for a moment of silence as their names are read.  Lieutenant?"

            One of the young officers who had been overseeing the training of the candidates stepped forward and unrolled a parchment scroll.  Torchlight winked on his various medals and decorations.  With a grave bearing that would have honored the bravest fallen warrior, he read:

_"Aleser, Taka;_

_Annora, Cayla;_

_Banest, Marcus;_

_Erland, Zale;_

_Dempsey, Ahren…"_

            Colin felt a pang when that name was read.  Ahren had lasted a month and a half after Colin's arrival, and less than a week after his appointment with Lord Dilandau, following Colin's "promotion."  Colin had heard Ahren sobbing into his pillow that night as he passed by the boy's bed on the way to his own, but never mentioned what he had heard to anyone, in light of Sergeant Berenger's revelation.  He made no obvious overtures of friendship to his one-time enemy, but he at least developed a sense of empathy for Ahren, who was a kindred spirit of sorts.

            They had found Ahren in the stables, his lifeless body swinging from one of the rafters by a rope he apparently braided out of his own sheets.

"…_Lander, Audra;_

_Ottokar, Luther;_

_Rahman, Dymas; _

_Seif, Willem;_

_Tymon, Abran;_

_Veda, Lian."_

            There was absolute silence after the lieutenant finished reading so that the last dying echoes of his voice whispered in their ears like the shades of the departed clinging to their last tie to the mortal world.

            "Do not forget us, your onetime brothers," they seemed to plead.  Colin heard Chesta sniffling as quietly as he could behind him.

            "You have reached the final stage of your training.  Once it is completed, you will become Dragon Slayers, Zaibach's most elite and specialized guymelef troops."

            "Did he say 'guymelef'?" Chesta gasped out loud.  He was not the only one.

            "Yes, guymelef," Lord Dilandau answered, smirking a bit, "Training begins today.  Each of you has already had rudimentary training in piloting guymelefs…or you should have."  Colin saw the look Lord Dilandau shot him.

            _What's that supposed to mean?  Didn't they put that I've already qualified for a Derieto model guymelef?_

            "You will find, however, that the Alseides models are quite different from anything in your experience, thanks to improvements and modifications added by Folken Strategos.  The Strategos himself will be instructing you on how to use the Stealth Cloaks and the flight mode…"

            The uproar was immediate.  "Flying!  We're going to be flying!" Raul yelled, abandoning all semblance of bearing.  He whooped and thrust a fist into the air.

            "I've always dreamed of flying!" Gatti exclaimed, his eyes sparkling as if they were already touched by the light of the sun.

            _FLYING.  I will finally be able to escape the chains that hold me to Gaea.  The clouds will be beneath my feet and people will look up, wondering.   I will be able to do things they can only dream about or cannot even imagine._

            "Aren't you happy, Colin?" Chesta asked him, "You have the oddest look on your face."

            "I am happy, Ches.  There simply aren't words enough to express it."

            "I drew number 5.  What number did you get?" Chesta wanted to know.

            Raul, Gatti, and Colin squinted at the scraps of paper they held in their hands, trying to discern what was written on them in the early dawn light that was barely paling the blue-black of the sky.  The constant jarring of the wagon wheels over the rutted road was not helping to make the numbers anymore legible.

            "I got 4," Raul said finally.

            "Three," Colin replied.

            "I have number 11…no, wait…number 17," Gatti said.

            "Oh great," Raul remarked sarcastically, "A guymelef pilot who can't tell the difference between a one and a seven.  We're all going to die."

            "Only if you get in my way, Wakiza," Gatti threatened with a smile on his face.

            "Oooo, I'm so scared!"

           "You should be, smart ass!" Gatti cried and dove at him.  Raul yelped as if he was wrestled to the floor of the wagon, his right arm twisted behind his back and his legs pinned by the weight of Gatti's body.  "Say it!"

            "No way!" Raul yelled.  The other boys in the wagon were yelling also, mainly things like, "Fight!  Fight!  Fight!" or egging on their favorite combatant.  Gatti and Raul responded in kind, Gatti by pressing the unfortunate Raul harder into the rough wooden boards, Raul by trying to get his free arm out from under his body while at the same time attempting to bite Gatti.

            "Cut it out you two.  At least get a room," Colin said, slightly worried that either Gatti or Raul would hurt each other.

            "Oh, gross!" Gatti exclaimed and hastily released Raul.

            Raul slowly sat up, massaging his injured arm.  "But sweetheart," he sniffed, "does this mean you're ashamed of your true feelings for me?"  He batted his eyes at his friend.

            Gatti blushed a deep crimson as the others laughed and might have punched Raul, but Chesta grabbed his arm before he could swing.

            A mild breeze from the mountains barely lifted the limp wind flag.  It was a perfect day for flying.  _At least, birds always seem to fly better when there's no wind.  No clouds in the sky either and it's getting on towards autumn; you can smell it in the air.  We're going to be leaving __Fort__Prolieato__ soon.  Where are the guymelefs?_

            The wagon slowed and then stopped.  One after the other, the boys jumped out of the back of the wagon.

            "So where are the guymelefs?" Ryuon asked, shoving his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose and peering about the empty airfield.  Except for the wagon and the driver, the only thing that moved were the fifteen youths who had been anticipating fantastic armored giants that none dared to picture in their imaginations.

            "I dunno," Migel replied.

            "Hey, did anyone get number 13?" Arnor asked suddenly.  Everyone glanced down at their scraps of parchment.

            "Nope."

            "Uh-uh."

            "I got number 3."

            "Who has 13?"

            They all looked at Arnor.  "How did you know no one had 13?" asked Viole.

            Arnor smirked smugly.  "There are fifteen of us right?  Sixteen, if you count Lord Dilandau.  So the only way Leala here could have 17 was if the builders skipped a number.  My father helps to design guymelefs and airships," he told them, "Whenever they have a new model or something like that, they never give it the designation of 13, even if it is the thirteenth in a series."

            "Why not?" Damon wanted to know.

            Arnor paused to make sure he had everyone's attention.  He did.  "Because," he explained, "the number thirteen is supposed to be unlucky."

            There was an uncomfortable silence.

            "Pish, one number can't be more unlucky than another," Gatti declared, laughing.  The other youths, shaken from the pall of whatever fear had taken hold of them, laughed also.  Just another one of Arnor's bizarre facts, they agreed.

            "Hey, what's that?" Cyril yelped suddenly, pointing to the far end of the field.  The other boys followed his shaking finger and saw the sky and the woods, even the very air, was warping and shimmering as if the sunlight had been turned into subtle rainbows.

            One after another, two ranks of towering blue armored suits revealed themselves, shaking off the mantle of invisibility that had concealed them from the boys' eyes.  The last guymelef to reveal itself was different, in that it was the red of a blazing ember.  Its cockpit hissed open and the pilot climbed out nimbly and leapt to the ground.

            "Lord Dilandau!"  Immediately, everyone fell into a reverent bow.

            "Welcome to your first day of flight training," Lord Dilandau said simply.  Colin cautiously raised his head from the dusty earth. The cockpits of the other guymelefs opened, but they were empty.  _Those are ours!_

            "You can get up now," a voice behind them said.  Colin swiftly turned his head to look over his shoulder at the speaker.

            "Strategos, may I remind you that they are under my command and not yours?" Lord Dilandau snapped.  He glared at those who had turned around to look.  _Curiosity killed the stupid soldier who forgot that his commander is a psychotic.  Hopefully he'll wait till we get back to the fort to punish us._  "Get up!" he ordered, "Folken Strategos will now begin your training."  He started walking back toward the red guymelef, obviously finished with them for the time being.

            The Slayers recovered as hastily as possible and turned to the Strategos expectantly.  Colin stared at the man, who had been completely unfazed by Dilandau's outburst.  _He's young to be a Strategos and why is he dressed like one of the Sorcerers?  Interesting tattoos; they probably have some sort of meaning or else he wouldn't have them.  Doesn't look like he's been out in the sun often.  What the…?_

            "The Alseides guymelef is a multi-role fighter," the Strategos had been saying as he walked toward the silent machines.  To accomplish this, he had to go through the crowd of Dragon Slayers and in doing so, his black cloak slipped aside just enough to give Colin a glimpse of his skeletal metal right arm.  "Its primary function is defeating enemy guymelefs in combat on the battlefield.  Due to its flight and stealth capabilities, it is also a superior pursuit, reconnaissance and interdiction craft.  It is powered by twin Drag-energists, which supply the necessary power to achieve flight and to maintain the Stealth Cloaks.  However, because of the massive amount of energy used for these functions, it is impossible to fly while in stealth mode.  This important fact is your first lesson.  Any questions?"

            Myr raised his hand.  "What are the weapons capabilities?"

            "The Alseides lacks any formed hands, as you can clearly see.  Instead, liquid metal stored within the guymelef's main power core is used by the pilot to form a multitude of weapons, ranging from a Crima Claw, a semi-liquid flail, to a hardened sword.  The most difficult skill an Alseides pilot must learn is to mold and control this liquid metal."

            "But isn't having liquid metal so close to the power core dangerous?" Colin asked.  The Strategos raised an eyebrow.  _Probably offended him by questioning the Alseides' design._

            "As a matter of fact, yes," the Strategos admitted, his voice as calm and even as it had been from his first words to them.  Colin blinked at this frankness.  "Do not be concerned; measures have been included to compensate for that particular problem.  The danger to the pilot and the internal structure is minimized by a protective gel that fills the cockpit whenever the guymelef is in operation.  As a matter of fact, if there are no more questions, I would like to ask you to climb into your respective guymelefs and begin familiarize yourselves to movement in the gel and with the controls.  We will not begin weapons training until everyone is accustomed with the basic operation of their guymelef."

            "Finally," Raul muttered as he, Gatti, Colin, Chesta and the rest ran to find their assigned guymelefs, "I thought he'd never stop talking!  Forget all that crap about "multi-role fighter," let's just start flying and blowing shit up!"

            "Candidate Wakiza!"

            "Oh, shit!  Yes, Lord Dilandau?"

            SMACK!  "I do not want to hear any more stupidity and recklessness from you!  You will learn everything about your guymelef and you will bring a full report to me by tomorrow night.  Understand?"

            "Yes, Lord Dilandau."  Raul trotted over to where Colin and Chesta waited by their guymelefs; Gatti's was farther down in the second rank.  Noting their worried stares, Raul smiled nonchalantly as he began climbing into his cockpit.  "Don't worry about me boys," he said casually, "What would the day be like if Lord Dilandau didn't slap us at least once?"

            "You've got to be more careful and stop mouthing off," Chesta told him, "especially when Lord Dilandau can hear you."

            Raul grunted and dropped into the control chamber.  The canopy of the cockpit closed automatically, concealing him from view.  Colin and Chesta glanced at each other and shrugged before climbing into their own guymelefs.

            _All right, what have we here?  Looks like a less manually controlled 'melef than some of the models at the Academy.  Targeting array, this looks like the weapons controls…don't touch them, no matter how much fun it would be.  What's that noise?  Oh, the protective gel the Strategos was talking about.  Yuck. At least it's not cold.  How far up is it supposed to go anyway?  Good, it stopped._

"Aw, man!  I hope this slime doesn't stain my uniform!" Colin heard a voice whine near his ear.  He almost jumped out of his skin, and then realized it had to be some sort of communication device between the Alseides.  _That must have been Dalet.  Wonder if he knows he's broadcasting?_

            "Hey, idiot!  Everyone can hear what you're saying!" someone, probably Raul, thoughtfully informed him.  Laughter echoed in Colin's cockpit and drifted across the field.

            "Element, _tench-hut_!" Lord Dilandau snapped.  There was immediate silence.

            "Thank you, Dilandau," the Strategos said, his voice sounding even more inhumanly emotionless over the communications link.  Colin peered out through his guymelef's eye-slit._  Where did he go?  Does he have his own guymelef somewhere?_  "Slayers, observe your commander.  He will walk to the other end of the field, turn, and activate his stealth cloak.  This will teach you not only how to maintain your guymelef's equilibrium, but also show you how to identify an Alseides in stealth mode, which will be important on the battle field so that you will not injure your teammates."

            Lord Dilandau began pacing slowly down the field.  _Amazing how that suit seems to swagger like he does; this gel we're in must also be super sensitive to our movements.  But fighting in stealth mode?  How is one to fight an enemy when one is invisible?  That is dishonorable, cowardly.  I don't think I'd be able to do it, even if Lord Dilandau ordered me.  I'll have to think up a way to fight honorably without angering him._  Unconsciously, his hand reached for the seal case, something that had become habit without his knowing.

            "Note the distortion, marked by the nearly invisible diffraction of light, which appears in outline about the cloaked Alseides.  This distortion is harder to notice if the guymelef is not moving or moving very quickly.  It becomes more obvious just as the Alseides begins either to cloak or decloak."

            "Hey, Colin, push the small blue button on the far right side of your weapons control panel and punch in the number 04," Raul's voice sounded in his ear, "and don't say anything until you do it."

            Colin did as he was told and asked, "What did that do?"

            "It turned on the inter-guymelef com-link," Raul informed him, "now we can talk between ourselves without everyone else listening in.  I've already taught Gatti and Ches how to do it."

            "Does it work only between two 'melefs?"

            "Nope.  If you push the red button just below the blue button twice, and then put in the numbers for Chesta's and Gatti's 'melefs, you'll be able to talk to all three of us at once.  Do that right now; Gatti and Ches are going to come online in a couple of seconds."

            _What amazing things happen with new technology.  If the communications systems on these things are capable of inter-guymelef and multiple uplinks, what are the weapons systems like?_

            "Can everyone hear me?"

            "Loud and clear, Colin."

            "These Alseides are amazing!  I can't wait until we can try them out in the air!"

            "I can't wait until I'm…"

            "Yes, Raul, we all know; 'blowing shit up.'"

            "Shut up."

            "Make me…ouch!  Watch it!  You'll scratch the paint job on_ Diana_!"

            "You named your Alseides 'Diana'?"

            "Yeah, so?"

            "No need to get so defensive about it!"

            "You should name your 'melefs, too, you know.  It's bad luck to not have a name for a guymelef."

            "All right, mine's going to be _Astrea_."

            "Mine will be Ophelia, no, Circe…um, Kathrine!  No…how about _Nemesis_?"

            "Just pick one already, Raul."

            "A guymelef's name is very important and should have meaning to it.  So shut your ignorant mouth!  Hey, how much do any of you wanna bet I could barrel roll this thing?"

            "Without Lord Dilandau noticing?  I doubt it.  You don't even know how to fly it yet."

            "Shows how much you know."

            "What's that supposed to mean?  All right, you're on!  Twenty says you can't barrel roll without Lord Dilandau killing you."

            "Chesta?  Colin?  You want to get in on this?"

            "No thanks."

            "Hey, Colin, what about a name for your 'melef?"

            "I don't have one just yet.  Give me some time to think about it."

            "YEEHAAAW!" Raul whooped and forced his guymelef into a tight barrel roll.  Chesta and Colin, the former flying a little behind and to the left of Raul, the latter flying before and slightly to the right, had to quickly move out of the formation to avoid being hit.

            "Are you insane?" Chesta exclaimed, panting as the adrenaline coursed through his body, "You could have killed us!"

            "But I didn't," Raul said smugly, righting himself, "And now Gatti owes me twenty."  Chesta and Colin drifted back into the formation.

            "Just give us a warning next time," Colin told him, stifling his laughter.  He understood why Raul had done it; the urge to do some acrobatics of his own was nearly overpowering.  The world spread itself beneath him, the endless horizon stretching in all directions.  _And now there is no limit to where I can go, what I can do!_

            "You're lucky Lord Dilandau didn't see you," Chesta grumbled.

            "You're already on his shit list, Raul," Gatti chimed in from the other side of the V-formation they were flying in, "You really don't need to be taking chances like that.  I didn't really think you'd do it."

            "And you're supposed to be my best friend, the guy who knows that I like vinegar on my pancakes.  I'm offended."

"Raul, you like what…?  That is so weird!"  Colin exclaimed, laughing.

"It tastes good!  Don't knock till you try it, I always say!" Raul retorted cheerfully.

"It still wasn't a good idea to do that just now," Chesta pointed out.

"All right, all right.  Yeesh, you guys are the worst nags…"

            "Lord Dilandau!  What's wrong?" a voice cried over the link.  Colin focused on the crimson guymelef at the head of the formation and saw that it was weaving about erratically.  _What's going on?  One of his energists is smoking; it must be some sort of malfunction!_

            Colin punched the button that would connect him to all the others in the formation.  "Lord Dilandau!  Do you read?" he called out anxiously.  There was no answer.

            "Dragon Slayers, return to the air field," Folken ordered, "If Lord Dilandau is forced to make an emergency landing, training personnel will attend to him.  Return to the airfield immediately."

            The formation turned in the direction of the airfield, twenty miles to the east.  They yelled encouragement to their commander, but his altitude began dropping so rapidly anyone would have known that he could not possibly make it back safely.  All of them lowered their altitude to stay with him, but it would soon be too dangerous; the tree tops were coming up to meet them.  There was still no response to their desperate cries.

            When Lord Dilandau's craft dropped below the evergreen spires, the formation hovered hesitantly for an instant, not sure of what to do.  Folken's voice crackled over the airwaves once more.  "Dragon Slayers, this is a direct order: return to the air field at once.  Anyone who does not obey will be considered for court martial."

            "Come on," Gatti said to them, his voice choking in anger, "Let's go back.  You heard him; they'll take care of Lord Dilandau.  Dragon Slayers, form up!"

            They reformed and lofted into the sky.  All except for Colin.

            "Hey, Delios!  Get your ass back up here!"

            "Cool it, Schaffer!  Gatti, I'm going down with him."

            "But, Colin…"

            "It'll be all right, Ches.  Let him go.  Colin, no stupid heroics, got it?  You're probably going to be court-martialed but I don't want you killing yourself to avoid the Inquisition."

            "Aye, aye, Captain Wakiza."

            "Good luck, Colin.  And Sheep Boy, put a sock in it."

            Colin descended in to the darkening twilight of the forest as his comrades flew back to the air field, the setting sun gleaming on their guymelefs.

            _Slow, slow, that's it Colin, don't want to get any nasty tree stuff on your 'melef.  All right, Lord Dilandau, where did you go?  These trees are bigger than they looked from the air.  There he is!  Mother Gaea!_

            The red guymelef lay on the forest floor, flat on its back, both of its energists smoking.  There were long, dark marks scored into the earth, showing where Lord Dilandau had attempted to land his injured guymelef.  There was no movement that Colin could see in the surrounding area and the cockpit was closed; it was most likely that his commander was still inside.  

            "Lord Dilandau, are you all right?" Colin asked, even though he knew it was unlikely that Lord Dilandau could respond even if he could hear his call.  Colin landed, a trifle clumsily on the rougher terrain.  He waited impatiently for the gel to drain away and the yoke to release him from the cockpit.  He leapt from his guymelef and landed on the forest floor as lightly as a cat.  Colin clambered onto the still body of the other guymelef, calling out, "Lord Dilandau?  Can you hear me?"

            _Where is the emergency release switch?  Come on, there has to be one on this thing!  Ah, got it!_

            The cockpit hissed open, dispelling steam and gel.  A form encased in black and red armor lay in the shadowed cockpit, quite still and obviously unconscious.  Colin reached down and grabbed it under its arms, noting the lightness of the body.  There was a slight moan as he brought it out, clasping it firmly to his body.  Colin knelt down and cradled it in his arms, staring down anxiously at its pale face.

            Blue eyes opened slowly and gazed up at him in confusion.  "Eh?" gasped their owner.

            "Don't worry, it'll be all right.  Just lie still," Colin said soothingly, "You're safe now, Lady Celena."

            "Ce-le-na?" the silver-haired girl questioned softly, saying the name slowly as if flavoring each syllable.

            "Yes, that's who you are, that's your name," Colin told her, "Don't you remember?"  Celena shook her head somewhat uncertainly.

            "Name?" she asked.

            "Yes, your name is Celena.  My name is Colin." He pointed to himself.

            "Co-lin?" she responded, pointing at him.  Colin nodded and pointed at her.  "Celena."

            The girl frowned in puzzlement.

            "You poor thing, not only did they take your identity and your future, they took your memories and your past, too."  Celena cringed at the vehemence in his voice and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.  "I'm sorry," he apologized, stroking her hair till she calmed down.  _She has no memory, no past. She has no idea who she is or what was done to her.  She's like a child!  Perhaps that is a blessing.  I'd better get her out of here before they come and change her back.  Who knows what that will take._

            "Ah," Celena whispered, stroking his cheek and smiling up at him like a child in the arms of a parent who is comforting them after a terrifying nightmare.  Colin flushed and hastily, but carefully, helped Celena to her feet and was surprised to note that she was about his height.  _Even though she and Dilandau shared the same body, there are still physical differences between them.  I wonder if…_The girl laughed at the changing color in his face and reached out with both hands to explore this new marvel.  Colin arrested them firmly, trying to ignore the injured expression Celena shot him.

            "I'm going to get you away from this place," he said.  Celena's blank look told him that she did not understand.  "Come," he said, hoping that the girl would comprehend the simple word.  He began walking down the length of the guymelef.  With a cry, Celena reached out and grabbed his hand.

            "Alone!" she wailed, "No!  Please!"

            "I won't leave you alone, I promise," Colin replied earnestly.  She refused to let go of his hand.  "All right, you're right; hold onto my hand if it makes you feel better."  He guided her to the end of the guymelef and helped her to step down onto the firm mould of the forest floor.  Celena stared about her in wonder, like a child seeing the world for the first time.  _She was so young when it happened she might as well be seeing it for the first time._  Colin clenched his fist in anger.  _There'll be time enough to condemn the Sorcerers.  How will I get her away from here and out of Zaibach?_  He glanced at his guymelef and quickly abandoned that idea.  There were too many dangers and too much chance of failure, even if he could find a way to carry Celena as a passenger.  _There's only one thing to do; we have to try for Asturia.  Once we cross the border, Zaibach can't get us and I can contact Sir Bjorn.  He would help us, I know it.  Especially considering who she is.  But it's at least a five day's journey on foot.  Can she do it?_

            There was no time to plan, no time to prepare; if they were going to escape, if _she_ was going to escape, they would have to begin the journey now, even in the waning light of evening.  Colin spared no thought for the ambitions he was leaving behind as he turned to the south and toward sanctuary.  _Chesta, Raul, Gatti, forgive me, but this is something I have to do._  The thought of what his father might say did not even come under consideration.  Colin struck out at a rapid pace, almost running, to put as much distance between them and the landing sight as possible.  Celena clung to him, clearly not understanding the "why" of her companion's actions, only that she must stay with him or be alone.  _Thank Gaea some of the modifications that produced Dilandau are still with her.  No one can keep this up forever, though.  We're going to need food, shelter and we'll have to keep away from any villages between here and Asturia.  They're sure to send out search parties, too.  Damn it, the sun's set and I can't see the stars!  If we stop now, they'll catch us!_  Just then, Colin stumbled upon an unseen root and fell heavily to the ground, bringing Celena with him.  He heard a very audible popping noise and felt a sudden sharp pain shoot up his right leg.

            "Damn it!" he cursed and sat up.  He tried moving his right foot and winced at the intense throbbing pain that accompanied the motion.  _The ankle must be broken, or at least badly sprained.  How am I going to walk on it?  _He cursed again. __

            "Bad!" Celena scolded, shaking her finger at him.  Obviously, she understood or had remembered the taboo on cursing all mothers place in their children.  It was such a ludicrous situation that Colin could not help but laugh.  The darkness obscured Celena's features and she would easily be mistaken for Dilandau, who certainly would not have resorted to childish admonitions.  Colin half expected to be slapped as he shivered, helpless in the grips of his mirth.

            "Ah, my lady!" he said to her, taking her hands in his, "What a savior I turned out to be for you.  Flight through a dark forest without any provisions or hope for shelter, and now I've gone and hurt myself.  I apologize for the lack of the white horse and all the trappings of a proper knight.  I had thought to rescue you, but it's hopeless now, I see.  It seems that whatever fate was chosen for you must be fulfilled, though I would change it and the stars for you.  And yet, it is not in me to surrender to fate just yet; call me a fool, for that is what I am, Fortune's fool!"  He laughed again, harsh, desperate laughter.  Celena seemed to be staring at him in confusion, but he could not be sure.  "Well that you should look upon me like this," he continued, more to himself then to her. He began making motions to rise, "It is a humbling state and I have forgotten humility.  A good knight never forgets that, you know."  Very carefully, he got to his feet, or rather, foot, for his right leg would not support him at all.  Panting from the exertion, he leaned against the tree that was responsible for his condition.  The irony did not escape him.

            "Help?" Celena queried.  She placed his right arm over her shoulders, which was very awkward because of the bulky shoulder armor she wore.  Colin was afraid to put his weight against her, but she pulled him away from the support of the tree and held him up.

            "Hm, I suppose since I messed up rescuing you, you should do the rescuing now," Colin remarked, "Let's just keep going."  The pair began hobbling southward again, much slower than they had been before.  Celena began humming and Colin recognized a lullaby his aunt had sung to his younger cousins; perhaps his mother had sung it too, but he did not remember.  He began singing along.

_"Softly among the yellow flowers_

_the happy children tread their way._

_The sun will shine for many hours_

_for their laughter, child, is the day._

_Now the sun is setting fast my child_

_the sweet  day is coming to its end._

_Laugh now in your dreams so mild_

_to the night your brightness lend."_

Celena stopped humming at the end of the verse.  "What?  Is my voice that bad or something?" Colin laughed.

"Pretty," Celena replied happily, "'Laugh'!"  She giggled.

"Well, I'll be…" Colin said, then cut himself off just in time, "That's about the nicest thing anyone's said about my singing.  Hey, look!  It's getting lighter up ahead.  We must be getting close to a clearing of some sort."  _I'll stop just to get my bearings and then we'll be on our way._

The trees thinned and soon they emerged in a wide grassy clearing, nearly half the size of the air field.  Celena stopped and gaped at the wide open space before her.  Colin took the time to look up at the stars, glittering points of light filling the sable expanse of the night sky.  _The Sword and there, ah yes, the Vigilant Guardian!  Many thanks, Kane.  We were drifting a bit to the west, I see._  "We're set, Lady Celena, all we have to do is…"  _What was that?_

A low, thrumming roar filled the clearing, coming from somewhere behind them.  It quickly got louder, till it seemed that it, whatever it was, was nearly on top of them!

_A transport!  Have they found us or is this just a sweep?_  "Celena, we must hide!" Colin shouted, trying to drag Celena to the shelter of some nearby underbrush.  But Celena was frozen in place, terror etched into her features.  _She knows what it means, why doesn't she run?_  "Celena!"

The airship roared over their position, its blazing white searchlight throwing up sharp black shadows.  It continued on, disappearing over the tree line, the roar of its engine fading.  _They didn't see us!_  Colin nearly collapsed in relief.  _But they'll be back.  Dilandau's simply too important not to do a thorough search for._  He managed to urge Celena over to the bushes and began crawling toward the thick heart of the foliage.  _If they come back…_

The roar once more filled the clearing, but it was slowing, slowing, _stopping!_   The boxy craft landed in the clearing with an audible jar, not an arrow's flight from where they crouched.  Colin peered through a small break in the leaves, holding his breath.  The front dropped down in a ramp and a man garbed in the signature cloak of the Sorcerers stepped out onto it.

"We know you are here!" he shouted, looking almost directly at Colin and Celena's hiding place, "Surrender now, Dragon Slayer, and give Dilandau to us.  You cannot escape and we will kill you if you do not give yourself up immediately!"  The spectacles the man wore glittered with a cold light.

Colin felt Celena grab his arm and heard her whimper anxiously.  "Bad man!" she moaned, "Bad man!"

"I know, I know," Colin whispered to her.  She had tears glistening in her eyes.  "I'm sorry Celena, I couldn't protect you.  But, do you want me to die for you?"

"Die?" Celena gasped.

"Yes.  If I pretend to surrender, if I act like I'm going with them, perhaps you could run!  I'll fight them and they'd be too busy with me to hear someone running away.  I don't care if they killed me, so long as you could get away!" he said eagerly.  Celena looked at him, struggling to understand, hissing with frustration.  "But you can't," Colin said heavily, "You don't know what any of this means.  How would you survive on your own?"

"You have one minute to surrender, Dragon Slayer.  One minute, and you will be branded a traitor, your family disgraced, and your life forfeit."  Soldiers began to come down the ramp and line up in front of the airship.  Colin counted at least twenty.  Their swords were drawn and their captain was glaring in his direction.

_No!  I will not surrender!  There's still a chance, there must be!  But…will she understand?  Will I be able to get away?"_

"Celena, I want you to stay here.  Stay here no matter what happens, got it?"

"Stay?" Celena bit her lip, but she understood the word.

"It'll be all right," Colin assured her, "No matter what happens to me, I want you to stay here.  I promise I'll come back for you.  Stay here where it's safe."  He began to crawl away.  

"Stay!" Celena cried, grabbing onto his leg and pulling him back.  Tears were now streaming down her face, glistening silver in the starlight.

"Celena, please!  I'll come back, I promise!" Colin pleaded.  But Celena clung to him like a child clings to a parent about to abandon it in a strange place.  Colin racked his brains for a way to make her let go and stay put, at least to distract her.  Out of habit, he reached for his seal case…_That's it!_  Quickly he removed the ivory decoration from his neck and pressed it into Celena's hands.  "Here, keep this!  It's my promise that I'll come back!"

Celena stared at the object in her hands and began to examine it curiously.  Colin took his chance and crawled away swiftly and silently, emerging from the underbrush as far away from Celena as he could.  He pulled himself upright using the low-hanging branches of a tree and slowly began hobbling forward.

Two soldiers rushed forward and roughly grabbed him by the arms, dragging him toward the airship.  Colin clenched his jaw and glared at the Sorcerer who was descending the ramp to the forest floor.

"Where is he?" the Sorcerer demanded icily, peering down at Colin through his coldly shining spectacles.  Colin could not see the eyes behind them, but he stubbornly met their gaze.  "Answer me, boy!"

"Answer his lordship!" one of the soldiers holding him barked, accompanying his order with a sharp blow to the back of Colin's head with his gauntleted hand.

_You'll have to try harder than that to make me confess.  Did you not hear the man?  I am a Dragon Slayer of Zaibach and everyone knows that Dragon Slayers are the elite of the elite.  Confess to you?  I think not._  A sword flashed beneath his chin, tickling the delicate flesh of his throat and drawing the thinnest line of blood.  Colin chuckled, causing the men around him to draw back in amazement, wondering if he was sane.  _Don't make me laugh you fools.  Death is no stranger to me; in fact, he is a long overdue friend._

"That's enough, soldier!" ordered the Sorcerer.  The tone of his voice changed as he regarded Colin.  "This one does not fear death, it seems.  Perhaps he believes himself to be invincible.  Are you aware, boy, that you are mortal and that if you do not answer me, your life is over?"

"Yes," Colin answered, keeping his voice neutral, "It's not that I do not believe I cannot die.  Death has no hold over me because I know it is my fate to die.  If today, then why not?"

"Then why not tell us where he is?" the Sorcerer asked softly.

"What would be the point of that?" Colin shot back in the same tone of voice.

"I see.  Well," the Sorcerer replied, reaching into his cloak, "there are ways to make you tell us what you know, even if you have a mind not to."  He withdrew a hypodermic syringe from somewhere in his cloak, the needle glinting like a sliver of ice.  He held it in front of Colin's face.  "You know what this is, don't you?" he whispered.  Colin glared at him, ignoring the tube of truth serum hovering mere inches from his body.  _Father told me about drugs like this.  I can resist it if I try hard enough.  I must hold onto what I believe in. Do not let me betray Celena!_  "Your failure to cooperate is duly noted," said the Sorcerer.  He turned the syringe so that the needle pointed down and prepared to plunge it into Colin's neck.

There was a sudden piercing scream off to Colin's right, accompanied by the crashing noises of something moving swiftly, albeit clumsily, through the underbrush.

"Celena, no!" Colin shouted, struggling against his captors' grasp.  Everyone, including the Sorcerer, turned toward the source of the scream and saw an armored shadow rushing at them, wailing like a damned soul.  The soldiers parted, none willing to lay a hand on the demon.  Celena launched herself at the Sorcerer, her weight bearing him to the ground.  She began pounding the man's face, even as he screamed for help.  Colin turned and bit the wrist of the man on his left, his teeth sinking deeply into the yielding flesh between the soldier's mailed jerkin and his gauntlet.  Warm, salty blood gushed into his mouth.  The man released him with a yelp and Colin boxed the ear of the other soldier with his free hand.  The other snarled but held on grimly.

"Let go!" Colin shouted and drove his fist into the soldier's throat.  The man stumbled back, clutching at his impacted windpipe.  Unfortunately, without their support, Colin could not remain upright for very long.  He only managed a couple of steps toward Celena before he fell to the ground, biting his bloodied lips to keep from screaming in pain.  "Celena!  Run!  Get out of here!"  He crawled, closing the distance between them.  Voices, shouting, screaming obscenities swirled somewhere above them, but he gave them no mind.  He seized Celena's upraised fist and bellowed in her ear, "Run, dammit!  Run!"  He pulled her off of the Sorcerer, who had fainted under her blows.  "Run!"

Something like the sting of an insect pierced the back of his neck and a shroud of darkness fell over his eyes.

"Restrain her," a voice ordered flatly, dim in Colin's fading hearing, "and bring them both into the transport."

"Colin!"  A plea he could not answer, and then the embrace of an endless black sea…

"Slayer Delios, do you understand the meaning of treason?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you deny then, that you betrayed your country tonight?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do not mock me, Delios.  Your father might be a minister…"

"That's enough, Captain.  You are dismissed."

"But, Strategos…"

"You are dismissed, Captain."

"Yes, sir."

"He is gone, you may stand at ease if you like."

"Sir, I am being charged with treason, a charge I wish to contest.  I am still a Dragon Slayer and loyal servant of Zaibach.  Therefore, I wish to face the Inquisition as a soldier."

"You think that I am the Inquisition?"

"Sir, I was led to believe…"

"I am not your judge, boy.  You will not face the Inquisition tonight, or ever."

"Sir, I do not understand."

"The captain is fond of empty threats, for he is fond of hearing his own voice.  He pretends that he has more power than is due to a bureaucrat.  Your father is a powerful man with powerful allies, young Delios.  You can rest assured that your clan's influence saved you from disgracing them."

"My father..?"

"You have stumbled upon one of the great secrets of Zaibach.  Even if you had not disobeyed orders, we could have easily found charges of treason that would allow us to execute you, at the very least throw you out of the army and into a prison cell for the rest of your life.  Even wiping your memory would be a viable option in this case, and much more convenient, don't you think?  Unfortunately, your father would have none of that and he has the power of committee behind him.  He has no need of empty threats.

"Your punishment has been left up to me to find a suitable solution.  You were not surprised when you discovered Dilandau in an altered state."

"No, sir."

"You're honest to a fault, boy.  No wonder your father sent you into the army; you could never be a politician."

"Thank you, sir."

"I do not wonder how you got that information and I doubt you'd tell me if I asked.  So you know of Dilandau's alter ego?"

"I know who she really is.  She is an innocent girl who was corrupted by the Sorcerers in one of their sick experiments!"

"Condemning the Sorcerers is the same as condemning Emperor Dornkirk, who ordered the procedure."

"I do not believe that our Emperor would be so cold-hearted as to inflict such suffering on a child.  I refuse to believe it!  It must have been the Sorcerers, who saw a chance to manipulate a human being for their own ends and used excuses and lies to convince Emperor Dornkirk!  It is their evil that I defy, not the will of the Emperor."

"If that is how you can reconcile such evil for the greater good, then I will not try to change your mind.  You shall remain a Dragon Slayer, Delios, for I see in you a loyalty to Zaibach that cannot be swayed.  This faith was tested tonight, but you gave yourself up."

"I was trying to give Celena a chance.  I was going to come back for her."

"How, young Delios, how did you expect to accomplish that?  Surely you knew that once you handed yourself over to the tender mercies of Zaibach, your every movement would be watched.  You would have led us right to him."

"I would have found a way!  I swore that I would protect her and come back to her!"

"All the same, you could not completely turn your back on your duty, your destiny.  I understand that you entered the Dragon Slayers under protest?"

"No, sir.  I chose."

"Hm, yet I seem to recall that you were well on your way to becoming a Knight Caeli.  You abandoned such an honor because your father demanded it, didn't you?

"Silence sometimes speaks more clearly than words, boy.  There is a saying in Zaibach and I wonder if you are aware of it: "bartered with like the children of Delios."  Your clan has a long, outstanding tradition of selling off its progeny to futures that guarantee the continued elevation of itself.  Perhaps this is why you can understand the need of sacrificing the few for the many."

"No, sir, I do not understand it.  In fact, human life is not something that can be used as so many pieces of gold or animals for the slaughter.  My destiny is to serve my clan and it is an honorable destiny.  My father simply helped me to realize it."

"And yet you endangered this destiny, in fact the entire fortune of your clan to save one life, one life that can mean the difference between victory and defeat for Zaibach."

"I am free to choose, sir; she was not."

"So you believe in the freedom to choose, do you?  It amazes me how you can say you are free to choose your own path and yet you believe in the destiny of yourself, your clan, and Zaibach."

"My destiny resolves itself, as all destinies do.  All that matters is the way one goes about doing it."

"I was wrong when I said you were only fit for the army.  You should have become a philosopher.  But come now, there is something I want to show you…"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"Stop it!  What are you doing to her?"

"Slayer, you will remain here.  Do not approach them."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!  AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

"They're killing her!  Let me go, let me go!"

"This is your punishment, young Delios.  If you had not tried to run, Celena would not have had to go through this torment to have her changed back into Dilandau.  If you had remained where you were supposed to, if you had followed orders, her suffering would have been minimal.  Her screams are the result of your defiance."

"HELP!  AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! STOP!  PLEASE!  COLIN!"

"Do you hear that?  Even though you caused this, she still cries out for you."

"No…Celena!  Stop it, damn you, STOP IT!  She should not be punished for my mistake!  Kill me, do what you want with me, but let her go!  Celena…"

"Get up, Slayer, and accept justice.  You said you were willing to face judgment as a soldier, so do it.  This is your Inquisition."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…."

"AAAAhhh…uh…huh…huh…huh…"

"It is over.  The transformation is complete."

"Strategos, the matter of the soldiers has been dealt with."

"Very good; thank you, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir."

"What 'matter' are you talking about?"

"You were accused of treason in front of twenty men.  The Sorcerer has agreed to keep silent, but there is only one way to guarantee that the others will keep their vow."

"You…killed them."

"I, Colin?  Was it not you that turned fugitive?  Their blood is on your hands and the grief of their families is your doing.  Do not think that you are above guilt simply because you have evaded more serious punishment.  Where are you going?"

"I am a Dragon Slayer, and thanks to you, I will remain one.  If it is not contrary to your will, I would like to renew my pledge of fealty to Lord Dilandau."

"Do so, Dragon Slayer."

"Lord Dilandau?  Ah, but you are asleep, I see.  _Can you hear me, my lady?  If you can, know that I swear my life and my honor to you and to no other.  I failed you once, when I failed to protect you.  It will not happen again.  I will never leave your side, until I see your destiny fulfilled and you are returned to your rightful form._  Know that I, Colin Delios, of the House of Delios, do hereby renew my oath of loyalty to Lord Dilandau and to Zaibach!  _And I swear it to you, Lady Celena_."

A whispered oath and a guardian's kiss on a brow smoothed by the sleep of exhaustion.

"This was found in his hand.  I believe it is yours."

"It is.  Thank you, Strategos."

"The transport back to Fort Prolieato will depart in one hour.  Be on it."

"Yes, sir."

"And Delios…"

"Yes, sir?"

"Remember that only three people in Gaea now hold the truth of what happened.  See to it that it remains that way."

"Yes, sir."

_Author's note: Credit is given William Shakespeare for lines from his plays "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and "Much __Ado__ About Nothing," and for coining the term, "Fortune's fool."  (Romeo and Juliet)._


	6. Festival

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tenkuu no Escaflowne._

****

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Chapter V_**

**_Festival_**

_"O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright… I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."_

_~Shakespeare, "Romeo and Juliet"_

            The door to the common room creaked open slowly, drawing fourteen pairs of anxious eyes to the figure standing motionless in the shadows of the corridor beyond.  Where the room had once been filled with subdued conversation, tense silence now reigned.

            "Well?" Chesta burst out, unable to bear the waiting any longer, "What did he say?"  
            Wordlessly, Gatti entered the room, his head bowed, not looking at his comrades.  He slumped into the large comfortable chair before the fire and stared into the flames, his face as expressionless as stone.

            "Did you get it?" Migel asked, getting up from his place by the window.  The grey afternoon outside and the late autumn drizzle no longer held his interest now that his future happiness depended on the news Gatti had yet to reveal.  All of the Dragon Slayers moved to cluster around their chosen messenger.

            "Gatti, what's wrong?" Raul managed to whisper, "It's bad, isn't it?  Come on you can tell us."

            Colin bit his lip and regarded his friend.  _Why can't he just tell us?  We were prepared for the worst; he's only making us feel worse by delaying the inevitable._  Gatti's head sank to his chest and his hands covered his face.

            "Oh, no!" moaned Yan as Gatti's shoulders began to shake, "Please say it isn't so!"  
            "I'm sorry guys," Gatti said, his voice muffled by his hands, "but you only have one hour to pack your bags before the wagons leave for town!"

            A fly would have been ecstatic over the plethora of open mouths available to him.

            "You…you…!" Raul gasped after a very pregnant pause.  Gatti's hands dropped slowly from his face, revealing a huge grin that reached all the way to his eyes.

          "Got ya!" he crowed.  He glanced around at his fellow Dragon Slayers.  "What are you guys waiting around here for?  We have a four-day leave and only one hour to get ready!"

            "Chesta, would you mind…?" Raul asked in a flat voice, not taking his dangerous amber eyes off of Gatti.

            "Not at all," Chesta replied in the same tone.

            "Colin?"

            "No objections from me."

            "Anyone else?"

            "Nope."

            "None here."

            "Go right ahead, Wakiza."

            "Raul? Guys?" Gatti asked, licking his lips and darting nervous eyes from face to implacable face as he sank further back into the chair, desperate to disappear into the fabric.

            "AAARRGH!"  Raul screamed and pounced on his friend, knocking the chair backwards.  He and Gatti were unceremoniously dumped onto the hard wooden floor with a crash that rattled their bones.  They rolled a fair distance before stopping, the former on top of the latter.

            "Don't you ever do that again!" Raul yelled, smacking Gatti in the head with a cushion he had miraculously managed to grab and hold onto.

            Gatti raised his hands to defend himself, but he was laughing so hard that he absorbed a large part of the blows on his face.

            "Should we do something?" Chesta asked.

            "Nah," Colin shook his head, "Raul will stop when he gets tired."

            Colin's prediction was soon fulfilled as Raul gave Gatti one last, half-hearted whack and rolled off of him, panting heavily.  The four friends were the last ones left in the room as everyone else had hurried away to get their things together.

            Gatti was still laughing rather weakly as he rose to his feet.  "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to his prone friend, "All the other guys are getting their stuff.  We don't want to be left behind, do we?"  Raul glared but took Gatti's hand. By the time he was on his feet, he too was grinning at the thought of freedom.

            "That was a good trick," Chesta admitted as they made their way back to the room.

            "I'm a gifted actor and I never saw through it," Raul said, giving his highest praise as both a renowned trickster and consummate actor.        

            "All in the spirit of Aratás," Gatti said cheerfully, preening at bit at the praise he was receiving.

            "But do that again," Colin warned as he and Chesta opened to door to their room, "and I'll take the pillow from Raul and do the job myself."

            "Fine, you get the pillow, I'll get my sword," Gatti shot back before disappearing into his room, which was next door to Colin's.

            Colin entered his room to find Chesta in a whirl of activity.  

            "Come on, Colin!" Chesta exclaimed as he dumped several clean shirts into his traveling case, "We've got to hurry if we don't want to be left behind!"

            "We do have an hour you know."

            Chesta spared a half-second to glare at Colin.  "I haven't seen my family for six months and if you want to spend furlough at my house, you'd better get your rear in gear!"

            Colin sighed and began piling uniforms and other necessities into his overnight bag.  _Can't believe we have to wear our uniforms whenever we leave base.  At least everyone will know who we are and treat us with the respect the best soldiers in Zaibach deserve.  _He heard Chesta impatiently tapping his foot behind him._  Ah, well, can't blame the kid.  I can't imagine being only ten miles from my parents and not being allowed to see them.  And we've been stationed here for almost a month now._

            "Done," Colin said, as he hooked his bag closed and slung it over his shoulder.  _Oof, damn, this is heavy.  Good thing I won't have to pack my spare armor, too._

            "I've been thinking," said Chesta as they started for the door, "I really should invite Gatti and Raul to my house, too.  I'm sure my mother won't mind and with the festival and all, it would be hard to meet up with them."

            "Good idea," Colin said and knocked on the door to their friends' room.  When no one answered after several seconds, Colin opened the door himself.  "Hey, Gatti, Raul, Chesta wants to…ah!"  A hideous beast, with wild greasy hair and a snarling mouth, was lurking behind the door and it launched itself straight at Colin, knocking him into the wall behind him.

            "Got ya again!" Colin heard the monster say, without moving its lips.

            "Wha…Raul, get off!" Colin yelled and threw the boy off.  Gatti and Raul were rolling on the floor with laughter and Chesta was trying very hard to smother his own snickering.  "NOT funny!" Colin exclaimed and jerked Raul's mask off of his head.

            "Hey, watch it!  I had to special order that mask and it only came in yesterday!"

            "Good idea.  With that face of yours, you were probably desperate to cover it up."  Colin tossed the rubber mask back to his gaping friend.

            "Oooo, he got you with that one!" Gatti said.

            "Do you guys want to come and stay at my house for the festival?" Chesta asked before Raul's temper got the better of him.  Gatti and Raul looked at each other.

            "Might as well," Gatti said, "The inns are probably full by now and we'd be lucky if we could get a room at the ZYO."

            "Plus we'd be getting free food," Raul agreed.  He looked at Chesta.  "We'll come."

            "Good, but you'd better pack quickly.  We might miss the wagons."

            "Chesta, we nearly have an hour before we're supposed to be at the staging area."

            "Don't mind him; he's been like this ever since we knew we were on leave.  Try to hurry though, before he keels over from a heart attack or something."

            The wagons stopped in the main square of the town and fifteen boys in dark blue armor and black uniforms, complete with gold trim, piled out, shouting and talking excitedly like children let out on holiday.  The four friends paused a moment in the square to allow Chesta to get his bearings.

            "See you at the festival!" Raul shouted to their rapidly scattering compatriots.

            "At least it's stopped raining," Gatti said, "I would hate to think that they couldn't get the bonfires going."

            "Or even worse, cancel the dancing!" Raul exclaimed, horrified at the thought, "Imagine, all that food going to waste!"  
            "You're always thinking with your stomach," Chesta grumbled, "All right, let's get going!"
    
                   Colin was not paying attention.  He was dazzled by the sights and sounds and smells of the town getting ready for the harvest festival.  The sky was a piercing azure blue with cottony clouds scudding across its breadth in the brisk autumn breeze.  Bales of golden hay were piled all over the cobble stone square, giving off the sweet scent of sun-warmed clover.  Colin could also discern the spices used in baking: cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger root.  People called back and forth as they hung yellow-gold, orange, and brown bunting between the buildings or stacked cords of wood for the bonfires that would take place outside of town later that night.  Every door was decorated in harvest colors, with a sheaf of wheat hanging from the lintel for good luck in the next harvest.  Here and there was a splash of solemn black, a reminder of the coming winter and a warning to bring in the harvest quickly.  Above it all, a band was playing a lively old-style dance tune, warming up for that evening's festivities.  This all-out preparation and celebration was new to Colin; Aratás was celebrated all over Zaibach, but in the modern, industrialized cities, it was a tradition without meaning, an excuse to celebrate without really knowing why one was supposed to be happy.  Colin had a sense of going back into the past, back before there was a time that his people had relied on machines of steel and the sterile ways of urban life.  Here, the earth was living and growing and the very stones had a vitality alien to the cold impersonal dwellings Colin was familiar with.

            Staring about himself like a child, Colin saw a familiar sight: a man selling masks from his cart for the masquerade and revelry that was an integral part of the harvest festival.  Colin realized with a start that he had no costume and it felt wrong to go to the festival without one.  At home, his father had quickly disposed of the "childish practice" of dressing up and going wild during Aratás, but his father held no power here.  Colin had retreated to a time when simple pleasure took precedence over filial ambition.  Before he could make his way through the busy crowd over to the cart, someone caught hold of his elbow and he heard Chesta's voice saying something in his ear.

            "What was that?" Colin said, shaking his head as though he had been woken up from a dream.

            "I said, quit gaping like a fish and come one!" Chesta ordered impatiently.  As if afraid Colin would wander off, Chesta kept hold of his friend's arm and lead him like a wayward child to where Raul and Gatti were waiting.

            "Found him," Chesta said, "He was still standing where the wagons dropped us off."

            Raul rolled his eyes, but neither he nor Gatti said anything.  They followed Chesta down a narrow, dog-leg alleyway, over a picturesque stone bridge and finally to the stoop of a townhouse that was a model of middle-class respectability.  Colin quietly absorbed the sight as Chesta raised the black iron knocker.  The house, like its immediate neighbors and the rest of the buildings in the town, was of the white plaster and dark timber variety that had been popular in Zaibach architecture for many generations.  The roof was of dark slate, pitched at a very high angle, like the witches' hats in childhood fairy tales.  The lead-paned windows were made up of palm-sized circles of thick glass that captured the yellow light of the late afternoon sun and held it somewhere inside so that they could shine like diamonds.  It was not even close to being as grand as Colin's family manor, but even the outside felt more like home than those magnificent cold halls had ever been.

            The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly, drawing Colin's attention to it.  A girl stood in the portico, gazing out at them with wide, curious eyes.  Colin had to restrain himself from gasping at the sight of her.  Raul and Gatti reacted in much the same manner and they stared, unable to speak.  Her long blond hair was pulled back in a demure braid, but it caught the light of the sun and gleamed gold in its radiance.  Her eyes were like twin sapphires, but instead of the cold fire of those gems, they were warm and open, the eyes of a pure-hearted innocent.  A smattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones showed that she was unafraid of the sun, though her skin was the shade and smoothness of the seal case that hung from Colin's neck.  A faint rosy shade, the color of the simple dress she was wearing, blossomed on her cheeks as she felt the boys' stare.

            "Can I help you?" she asked them.

            Chesta stepped forward.  "It's me, Alethea.  You mean you don't recognize your own twin?"

"Chesta?" Alethea gasped.  With a cry of joy, she hugged her brother, nearly taking him off of his feet.  "Why didn't you write and tell me you coming for Aratás?" she exclaimed.

            "Can't…breathe…" Chesta wheezed, turning slightly blue.

            "Oh, I'm sorry!" Alethea cried and released him.  "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.

            Chesta nodded, taking in deep breaths.  He pointed to his friends, who were still staring at Alethea.   "These are friends of mine.  Alethea, meet Colin Delios, Gatti Leala, and Raul Wakiza.  Guys, this is my sister, Alethea Thuban."

            "Hi," Raul managed in a strangled voice.

            "Um, nice to meet you," Gatti mumbled, blushing and unable to meet Alethea's eyes.

            Colin simply gaped at her until Chesta elbowed him in the ribs and asked, "Are we allowed to come in now?"

            "Oh, of course! Come in, come in!" Alethea said and turned to the house to call out, "Mom!  Cora!  Corwin!  Chesta's come home and he's brought some of his friends!"

            _Very cute, Colin.  So she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen in your life and you can't even say a word to her.  You don't know a thing about her.  You've stood up to Lord Dilandau and defied Zaibach and you can't talk to a girl.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

            While Colin was thus employed in berating himself, the Dragon Slayers crowded into the narrow foyer.  "I'll go get everyone," Alethea told Chesta, and disappeared down the hall.

            "Take off your boots," Chesta hissed as he bent down to undo his clasps, "My mom hates it when people come into her house and walk all over her floors with shoes on!"

            The other boys hastened to obey.

            "Why didn't you ever tell us about your sister?" Raul asked accusingly.

            "I already told you I had a twin sister," Chesta said artlessly, slipping his boots off and putting them aside neatly, "What else was there to tell you?"

            "Why didn't you tell us that she's so…so…?" Raul trailed off under Chesta's intense look.

            "Beautiful," Colin blurted.  _Oops._  Chesta's eyes narrowed dangerously.

            "Chesta!" A woman came sailing down the hall and swept Chesta into her arms, covering him with kisses.  Colin breathed a sigh of relief; Chesta was evidently quite protective of his sister, for obvious and very good reasons.  The woman was not much taller than Colin and nearly twice as broad.  Her blond, grey-streaked hair was swept into a bun on the top of her head and curly strands formed a halo around her rosy, smiling face. 

            "Chessy, Chessy, Chessy!" shrieked two small fair-haired children who could not have been more than seven or eight.  They latched on to Chesta's legs and held on like barnacles to a ship's hull.

            "And who are these young men?" Chesta's mother exclaimed, letting go of Chesta and leaving him to the mercy of the children, who began climbing on him while continuing their shrill mantra.

            "Let go, Corwin!  Mom…ouch!  Cora!  That's Gatti, that's Colin, and that's Raul.  A little help here?" Chesta begged, attempting to pry the little girl off of his shoulder armor.

            "Chesta!  Be nice to your brother and sister!  They haven't seen you for months," Chesta's mother scolded, "Corwin, Cora!  Don't tear your brother apart or he won't come home again!  Go back to the kitchen and help your sister with the cookies."

            "Cookies, cookies, cookies!" the children shrieked and ran down the hall, presumably towards the kitchen.

            Chesta's mother watched them scamper away and shook her head.  "They're so excited about the festival already, and with you showing up, they're going to be uncontrollable," she sighed.  When she turned back to the boys, her face was beaming.  "Could you tell me your names again?" she asked, "I didn't quite catch them the first time."

            "I'm Gatti Leala."

            "My name's Colin Delios."  Colin bowed a short, polite bow.

            "I, Madam Thuban," said Raul in a grand voice, executing an elaborate bow, "am know as Raul Wakiza, son of Han Wakiza, officer in His Imperial Majesty's Dragon Slayers."  He took Madam Thuban's flour-dusted hand and kissed gallantly, like a knight.

            Madam Thuban giggled like a maiden.  "Aren't you the sweetest!" she exclaimed.  Gatti pointed his finger into his mouth and pretended to gag.  "I'm so glad all of you could come and spend the festival time with us.  I've read so much about you in Chesta's letters.  Won't you come to the kitchen and have something to eat?"

            "It would be an honor, madam," Raul said, still speaking in his affected voice.  He took Madam Thuban's arm and pretended to escort her to the kitchen.  Chesta, Colin, and Gatti followed, shaking their heads over Raul's ridiculous behavior.

            "Cora, don't eat the orange sugar!  It's for the cookies!" Alethea exclaimed.  Colin, who had been engaged in decorating "wheat-sheaf" cookies with yellow sugar, looked up and laughed at the sight of the little girl, her sticky hands and mouth stained orange by the dye in the sugar, sticking her tongue out at her exasperated older sister.  When she heard Colin's laughter, she grinned mischievously.

            "Eating the sugar's the best part," she whispered to him, once Alethea's back was turned.

            "I know," he whispered back.  To prove it, he took a spoonful of his own sugar and put it in his mouth and crunched on the crystals with a gusto that made Cora giggle.

            "Euargh!" Gatti groaned, "That's disgusting!  You're going to end up more hyper than Raul!"

            "Did someone call me?  Huh, huh, did they?" Raul chattered as he flew through the kitchen, Corwin on his heels.  The Dragon Slayer dodged around Alethea, who was taking a sheet of orange-besprinkled cookies from the oven.  Alethea gave a short scream as she almost dropped the hot metal sheet.  Her outcry distracted Raul for a split second, time enough for Corwin to catch up to him.

            "Tag, you're it!" the little boy yelled, and bolted out the back kitchen door into the courtyard beyond.

            "Sorryaboutthecookiesexcusemei'vegottotagyourbrotheritagainbye!" Raul called out to Alethea as he sprinted after Corwin.  A few seconds later, everyone in the kitchen heard a high-pitched shriek and Raul crowing, "Ha!  You're it again!  Hey, no 'tag backs'!  Come back here, you little…!"

            "I want to play with Raul, too!" Cora declared and abandoned her "decorating."  She darted into the courtyard, yelling, "I'm playing, too!  I'm playing, too!"

            There was an awkward silence in the now-quiet kitchen.

            "Um, is your friend always like that?" Alethea asked.

            "Who's always like what?" Chesta walked into the kitchen and snagged one of the oven fresh cookies from the wire cooling racks that were laid out on every counter.  "I finished putting everyone's stuff in my room, but I'm afraid it's going to be a little crowded.  Corwin's already had to move out to a pallet in my parents' room.  Hey, good cookies, Thea."

            "Thanks.  Mom put me in charge of the cookies this year so that she could concentrate on her pies for the contest.  She made dried alma and sourberry pies," Alethea said, wiping one hand on her apron and pointing toward the pies cooling on the windowsill by the door with the other.

            "Does that mean we're not going to be able to eat any of them?" Chesta asked, crestfallen.

            "She baked two for the family, but judging from the way your friend inhaled the caramels and the cookies, I don't think we'll have enough.  The caramels are practically gone."

            "Which one ate the caramels?" asked Chesta, narrowing his eyes at Colin and Gatti.

            "It wasn't us!" Gatti exclaimed, raising his hands defensively.

            "It was Raul," Colin told Chesta.

            "Where is he anyway?"

            "Outside with your brother and sister."  Chesta walked to the window and peered out into the courtyard.

            "What the…hey, guys!  You've got to see this!"  Chesta was laughing so hard he almost knocked over one of the pies.  Colin, Gatti, and Alethea hurriedly joined him at the window.  There was Raul, rolling around in the dirt and laughing his head off as Cora and Corwin crawled all over him, tickling him and giggling hysterically.  They stared for a split second before they too were consumed by laughter.

            "I didn't know Raul was ticklish," Colin said when he could talk again.

            "Ha ha!  Woo hoo…neither did I," Gatti said, wiping a tear from his eye, "And I've known him practically since day one of basic."

            "That was so cute!  He's very sweet, even if he's a little weird," Alethea said, drifting back in the direction of the oven.  Colin retrieved his sheet of cookies from the table and handed them to her.

            "These are ready to go in now."  He eyed pile of dirty baking dishes in the sink that overflowed onto the counter.  "Do you…need some help with the dishes?" he mumbled and blushed.

            "Would you?" Alethea asked gratefully, giving him a tired smile that made his already pounding heart leap into his throat.

            Colin swallowed, trying to force down the heat and deeper blush that was rising to his face.  "Su…sure," he stammered, and walked over to the sink.  _How hard can this be?  All right, so you're using a sink and soap instead of a convenient river; it can't be that much different._

            "You do know that Colin's fallen real hard for your sister, don't you?" Gatti whispered to Chesta.  Chesta clenched his jaw, but said nothing.  "He's your friend, Ches, and he's a good guy.  You know that more than any of us; he wouldn't do anything…ungallant."

            Chesta looked over his shoulder to where Alethea was laughing about the deluge of water Colin had somehow managed to splash all over his uniform while trying to figure out how to fill the sink and clean the dishes at the same time.  His hard expression softened somewhat.  "What about you and Raul?" he asked, looking back to Gatti, "I saw the look on your faces when she opened the door."

            "Well, I won't deny she's cute," Gatti conceded, "but you know I'm already betrothed to Astrea and I won't be unfaithful to her, even if it happened when we were babies.  As for Raul…he's got a girlfriend back home and I certainly wouldn't trust him with _my_ sister, if I had one.  Besides, you saw the look on Colin's face when he saw her.  I mean, he was speechless!"

            "All right," Chesta sighed, then smiled.  "How are we going to do it?"

            "Do what?"

            "Get them together of course!  What have we been talking about?"

            "Oh, yeah.  Hm, the best place to do it would be at the festival, during the dance tonight.  You could have Colin cut in while I'm dancing with her and…"

            "Wait!  Why are you going to be dancing with her?"  
            "Don't be so darn suspicious!  I belong to Astrea, remember?  It's just a good way to guarantee that Colin gets to dance with her."

            "Just checking.  But Colin can barely talk to her.  How's he going to ask her to dance?"

            "Work with him, but don't make it obvious."

            "And how am I supposed to that?"

            "I don't know!  I'm not omnipotent!"

            "Hey, Ches," Alethea interrupted, "Guess who the festival queen is this year."

            "You mean you aren't?" Chesta replied.  Colin looked up from the sink and stared at Alethea because she wasn't looking at him.  Chesta could barely contain his laughter at his friend's huge, star-struck eyes.  If there had been any doubt in his mind concerning Colin's affections for his sister, they had been thrown to the wind.

            "I didn't even put my name in for nomination," Alethea said, "I think it's a silly game for girls who have nothing better to do than primp in front of a mirror and babble on about clothes."

            "Sounds like Dalet Shahnaz, doesn't it?" Gatti remarked, "Speaking of which…"

            "Who is the festival queen, since I have no idea?" Chesta asked.

            Alethea smiled knowingly.  "It's Diana Zelgai."

            "Diana?" Chesta gasped.

            "Who's Diana?" Raul asked, coming in from the courtyard covered in dust and Cora and Corwin hanging from his arms.  He took one look at fierce red blush on Chesta's face and grinned.  "Oh, I see!  _That_ Diana!"  
            "What's that supposed to mean?" Chesta snapped, blushing even more fiercely.

            "Nothing, nothing at all," said Raul innocently, "I just think it's so sweet that you named your guymelef after her."

            "Ches, really?" Alethea exclaimed with a mischievous gleam in her eye, "Wait until Diana hears about his!"

            "Chesta likes Diana!  Chesta likes Diana!" Cora chanted.

            "Girls?  Yuck!" Corwin declared, wrinkling his nose.

            Alethea laughed.  "She's been asking after you, you know."

            "She has?" Chesta asked eagerly.  Raul snorted and Chesta glared at him.

            Alethea nodded.  "She was hoping that you would be home for Aratás.  She said that if you came to the festival that you should wear the costume of a Knight Caeli so that she would have a fit escort as a queen."

            Colin made a choking sound that nobody heard and nearly dropped the bowl he was rinsing.

            "Besides," Alethea continued, "Diana and I already took the liberty of getting the costume together.  You wouldn't waste our hard work, now would you?"

"But, but…" Chesta faltered.

            "Come on, Ches!  It won't be too hard to just go up to the girl and ask 'May I have this dance?' when you already know she likes you," Raul encouraged, slapping him on the back.  Chesta, already mortified, returned the gesture with additional vehemence.  Unfortunately, this caused a huge cloud of dust to billow up and make Gatti sneeze…right on the pies.

            "Oops.  Um, let's pretend that never happened," Gatti said nervously, looking at his friends.  They nodded, white-faced.

            "There you are!" Madam Thuban exclaimed, coming into the kitchen with an armload of old clothes smelling strongly of cedar, "Chesta, I found these up in the attic.  If you friends want to dress up for the masquerade, they can use these."

           "Hey, Mom, guess what?" Cora piped, "Gatti…mfph!"  Raul had quickly clapped his hand over the little girl's mouth.

            "Heh, heh.  Now Cora, didn't Gatti just tell you that he wants his costume to be a surprise?"

            "Cora!  What have I always told you?" Madam Thuban scolded, "Just because it's true doesn't mean it has to be said."

            Cora wriggled out of Raul's grasp.  "But, Mom…!"  
            "No 'buts!'"

            "But…"

            "Cora," Madam Thuban said warningly.

            Cora, realizing that discretion was the better part of valor and that the news of Gatti's little accident would have to wait, sighed and said meekly, "Yes, mother."

            "Good girl," said Madam Thuban with a smile.  She looked out the window at the waning afternoon light.  "Goodness, it's almost eventide!  Cora, Corwin, you'd better get into your costumes now if you want to go alming!  Papa said he would meet us in the town square afterwards for the festival."

            "But I want to be a Dragon Slayer!"  Corwin whined, "Like Raul!"

            "Honey, we already decided that you would be a soldier.  You wanted to be a soldier all year, and now you want to be a Dragon Slayer?"  Corwin nodded stubbornly, his face streaked with tears.  Madam Thuban sighed.

            "I don't think we can find a Dragon Slayer uniform so close to alming," she told her son, "Hardly anyone knows what they look like."  Corwin's face scrunched up dangerously.

            "Why don't you let him wear your armor?" Alethea whispered to her brother, "You're not going to be using it tonight."

            Chesta shook his head.  "I'm not supposed to take it off at all, and besides, he might damage it."

            "Here," Colin said, slipping out of his uniform coat.  The bulky shoulder armor was attached to it by various ingenious hooks and catches, which he undid as swiftly as he could.  The armor, crafted of a super-light and flexible alloy, could be expanded or reduced to fit its wearer's needs.  Colin deftly adjusted it, making it the smallest size he possibly could.  "If he has a long black coat, we could probably find a way to attach this to it.  I'll see what I can do about these greaves, but the gauntlets are definitely out; he'll have to wear gloves of his own."

            "He has just the thing to make it work!" Madam Thuban exclaimed with relief, "Alethea, go get Chesta's old winter coat from the closet, the one with the gold trim and buttons.  There is a pair of knitted gloves in one of the pockets."  Alethea nodded and hurried to do her mother's bidding.  She flashed a smile at Colin before vanishing down the stairs.

            "I'm so sure he had not ulterior motives whatsoever," Raul remarked to Gatti.  They had been watching the scene through a crack in the door to Chesta's room, which was right across the hall from the room the younger children were using for their changing purposes.

            "Since when has a person done anything purely out of the goodness of his heart?" Gatti asked pragmatically, examining himself in the small mirror hanging on the wall above the wash basin.  He slipped the hood of the heavy winter cloak over his head and picked up Chesta's father's old cane.  "Look, all I have to get now is a white mask and I'll be the Ghost of the Theatrehouse."

            "Hm," replied Raul, not really listening.  He was too intent on his spying.

            It was a perfect opportunity to inform him of their plans to bring Colin and Alethea together.  "So, what do you think of Alethea?"

            That got Raul's attention.  "What do you mean, 'What do I think'?" he asked, spinning away from the door.  He stared at Gatti for several moments.  "Are you asking me this because you want to go after her?  Well, too bad, because I think I like her!"

            "Chesta and I think Colin is sort of…in love with her."

            Raul looked at him blankly for several moments, then burst out laughing.  "Will you shut up!" Gatti hissed, pulling Raul away from the door, "Chesta and I are going to try and get them to dance together at the festival tonight, because it's obvious that Colin won't do it himself.  He can barely talk to her."  He frowned hard at Raul.

            "All right, fine," Raul said reluctantly, "I'll go along with it if only because I want to be there when Colin tries to get up the nerve to ask her to dance."  He sighed.  "I guess I'll just have to settle for the festival queen…"  Gatti shook his head.  "What?!  Who's got a claim on her?"

            "Chesta."

            "Drat!  Well, I guess since I'm a guest in his house, I should give him a chance…"

            "Your sentiments of friendship are so admirable," Gatti said, rolling his eyes.

            "'All's fair in love and war,' as the sages say," Raul said with a shrug.

            "Raul! Raul!" Cora yelled, skipping into the room, "Do you like my princess dress?  Do I look pretty in it?"  She twirled about in the middle of the room, causing her bright pink gauzy skirts to flare out like the petals of a flower.  The bodice of the dress was made of the same material and on top of her wild flaxen curls was perched a paper crown with jewels drawn on it with wax color-sticks.

            "Speaking of love," Gatti said, grinning.

            Raul couldn't make an appropriate response in front of an innocent, so he pretended to ignore Gatti as he knelt down Cora's level.  "All right, turn around slowly, so I can see it better."  Cora nodded and with a seriousness that only children can muster, pivoted slowly in place.  Raul held his chin in his hands and narrowed his eyes as if he was critically examining the dress.

            When Cora was again facing Raul, he exclaimed, "Stop!"  in a voice that sounded exactly like a foppish, affected member of high society.  "Eet eez zimply too be-u-tiful for words!  My dahling, you are a prinzess whose splendor exceeds the beauty of all noble ladeez that I have had zee pleasure of meeting!"

            Cora beamed and giggled and threw her arms around Raul's neck.  "If I give you some of my alms tonight, will you dance with me at the festival?"

            "Well…"

            "I'll give you all of my caramels."

            Raul shot Gatti a helpless look.  Gatti spread his hands and grinned, sending a very clear, "what do you expect me to do about it" message.

            "All right, the caramels cinched it," Raul said.

            "Yeah!" Cora cheered and ran across the hall, "Mom! Mom! Raul said he would dance with me at the festival tonight!"

            "That's wonderful!" Alethea exclaimed, mounting the last step.  Before she turned into the other room, she winked playfully at Raul.  "What did she promise you, all of her caramels or something?"

            "Er, something like that," Raul muttered, before shutting the door.  "Not a word," he said menacingly to Gatti and put on his mask, "not one word."

            "Of course not," Gatti said, a solemn expression on his face, "You know, Ches might have a problem with you dating his little sister, even if you do make a cute couple!"  He was out of the room and down the stairs before Raul could pick up his sword.

            The first stars were already in the sky when they began making their way to the town square.  Everywhere, torches and braziers were being lit to ward off the coming night.  Madam Thuban kept a firm hold on Corwin, who seemed determined to dart away from the group as soon as he could so as to engage in the revelry as he saw fit.  Behind them walked Chesta and Alethea, Colin hanging back just enough to be out of Alethea's peripheral vision.  All three carried at least one of Madam Thuban's prize-winning pies.  Gatti and Raul brought up the rear, Cora clutching Raul's hand and bouncing along, chattering happily.

            "Dame Frances thought my costume was the prettiest one she had seen all night. And Lily and Gertrude were so jealous, 'cuz they had to dress exactly alike and you know what they were?  They were cat people!"

            Raul groaned softly beneath his mask.  "Aw, quit your whining," Gatti muttered aside as they emerged in the town square, "You're getting at least three handfuls of homemade caramels for this.  Besides, I doubt Chesta's mom is going to let her two little darlings stay up past the third watch."

            "That's true," Raul said, perking up noticeably.

            "Now remember, Corwin, Cora," Madam Thuban said, "I don't want any grumpiness when I wake you up tomorrow morning.  You asked to stay up for the entire festival and you had better be cheerful because you are big now."

            "Yes, Mother!" Cora and Corwin chorused sweetly.

            "Now, go and find your Papa."

            "Yay!"  

"Come on, Raul, I want to introduce you to my Papa!  He's on the festival committee this year."

Gatti heard a distinct whimpering noise emanating from the horrifying visage Raul wore in place of his own as he was dragged away by his eager dance partner for the evening.

"I think Cora is a bit infatuated with him," Alethea remarked, "Isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?"  
            The three Dragon Slayers glanced at one another and tried very hard not to burst out laughing.

"Maybe we should arrange an appointment with the match-maker," Gatti said thoughtfully as Chesta, Alethea, and Colin set the pies on the rough board table that had been set up in the east quarter of the square for the pie-judging contest.

"What do you say, Mom?"

"Oh, now really, Ches, stop being so silly!  Thank you for your help children.  Why don't you go and join the party?" Madam Thuban suggested, waving at the bustling square, "I've got to stay here and talk with the judges."

"See you later, Mama!" Alethea called as they began walking toward the dancing area across the square.  To their right were the food and ale and cider stalls, to their left, peddlers had set up their carts, selling all sorts of masks and brightly colored scarves and the like.

"Hold on a moment," Gatti said, "I need a white mask.  You'd better come too, Ches."

"I had?"

"Yes, you need a white scarf of some sort to make your costume realistic."

"I do? But…"

"Come on, Thuban!"  Gatti caught hold of his friend's sleeve and began pulling him toward the nearest cart.

"We'll wait for you over by the queen's throne," Alethea said, pointing to where an enormous chair, surrounded by bales of hay and bright almas and sheaves of wheat, stood on a raised platform beside the center fountain, "And please hurry, Ches, Diana said she would meet you there before she was crowned."

"All…all right," Chesta stuttered, blushing again and turning back to the cart so his sister would not see.

"Come on, Colin," he heard her say and looked over his shoulder to see his friend being led away by his sister.

"Whew!" Gatti exclaimed, watching the pair vanish in the crowd, "That worked out quite nicely, if I do say so myself."  He picked up a white mask and held it over his eyes.  "You can be really dense sometimes, you know."

"What?!" Chesta exclaimed indignantly.

"We're trying to get them together, remember?" Gatti said in a frustrated voice.  He tossed a filmy white scarf at Chesta.  "This will do for you," he said, and handed over a couple of coins to the cart's owner.  

Chesta waved to Myr, Migel, Cyril, and Damon, who were at another cart looking at demon masks.  "Of course I remember," he said, "I just didn't know we had started yet."  He wrapped the scarf several times around his neck and tied it in an over-hand knot.  Nervously, he brushed some dust off of his long blue vest.

"We should try to see if Colin can get up enough nerve on his own to ask her to dance, though I don't think it's likely," Gatti said with a sigh, slipping on his mask.  They began walking in the direction of the throne.  "I thought the boy was going to be a Knight; they're _supposed_ to be pretty handy with the ladies."

"Don't remind me," Chesta groaned, wiping the sweat off of his palms.  He had already spied of familiar face, talking with Alethea.  Colin stood off to one side, looking like a nervous shadow in his bandit's costume.  He fidgeted, adjusting the black mask that covered half of his face and concealed his light brown hair.

"Your sister's costume's really cute," Gatti remarked, noting Chesta's unease.  He slowed down a bit so as not to leave his friend behind.  "What's she supposed to be again?"

"A Shield Maiden," Chesta mumbled, "She figured that if I was going to be a Knight Caeli, she should go as some sort of female counterpart."

"Uh huh," Gatti nodded, looking at Alethea's white dress and grey satin vest.  Her hair was loose and flowing and she looked simply stunning.  "No wonder Colin's having a hard time of it.  Well, no use hanging back.  Come on Ches!"  He jerked Chesta forward.

"Hey!" Chesta cried.

"Chesta!  It's so nice to see you again!"

"H…hello Diana."

"I see you told him about the costume," the festival queen said to Alethea, "Was it too hard to convince him?"

"Not at all," Alethea said with a grin, "And I suppose it's just coincidence that your dress happens to be of the same colors."

"Oh, this?" Diana asked, touching the voluminous blue skirt, "It's something my mother wore when she was…anyways, Grandma was only too happy to make some adjustments for me to wear it.  Can you believe I'm shorter than my mother was?"

"Not many people would find that hard," Alethea cracked.

"Hey, stop picking on the short people!" Diana cried, tossing her mane of black hair, "You aren't much taller than me, missy!"

"I'm petite, you're short; there's a difference."

"You know, denial is the first step on the way to acceptance," Diana shot back.  Alethea raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.  "Never get in a duel of words with a master," Diana crowed, "even if she is short!  Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to steal your brother away; the band's playing my song.  Come on Ches!"  Chesta sent a desperate look to his companions as he followed his willful queen.

"It's so annoying when she gets the better of me like that," Alethea said, a rueful smile on her face as she watched her best friend and her brother begin to dance, Chesta following Diana's lead.  She shook her head.  "I guess I should be used to it by now."

Gatti had been staring at Colin, trying send some sort of mental command to get him to ask Althea to dance, but he just stood beside Alethea like a mute statue.  

_She's standing right next to me!  She's standing right next to me!  Should I ask her to dance?  What if she says no?  What if someone else asks to dance with her before I can?  What if she says yes?  Should I take her hand or something when I ask?  Damn it, my palms are sweating!  Be a man, Colin, just ask her!_

"Alethea…"  _Was that my voice?  Gaea, I sounded like a little girl!_

"Colin, will you dance with me?" Alethea asked, taking Colin's gloved hand in her own.

"Sure," Colin replied, sounding immensely relieved.  Alethea smiled a small secret smile that only Gatti noticed and she and Colin twirled away, Colin dancing quite well and managing to lead.  Or perhaps Alethea was letting him.

"Hm, seems like the little lady was a couple of steps ahead of us on that one," Gatti remarked to himself, looking after them.  He saw Alethea and Diana guide their respective partners toward each other as the band began a reel.  The couples on the dance floor formed two lines, the men facing the women.  Gatti smirked when he saw a monster in a black cloak bowing dramatically before a pink sugar-spun princess, who could hardly contain her giggling as she curtsied in the prescribed manner.

"Um, excuse me," a voice said behind him.  Gatti turned.

"Yes?"

Slender hands nervously played with the cloth of a green dress the color of pine needles.  Hazel eyes looked up shyly into his.  "Would you…like to dance with me?"  The last words came out in a rush.  Her face was framed by a fall of oak brown hair crowned with a woven coronet of ivy.

Gatti had a momentary pang of guilt as he held out his hand, but he was still a bachelor.  "Of course.  What's your name?"

The girl blushed as he escorted her out onto the dance floor to join the other dancers.  "Luma," she said, smiling.

"I'm Gatti," he replied as they joined hands.  The music played high and sweet, mingling with the laughter of the revelers.

"I like shider," Raul slurred, his mask pushed up like some bizarre hood, "Isht good."  He drained his mug, almost falling backwards off the log they were sitting on.

"You're drunk," Chesta stated and began giggling hysterically, his face a bright pink.

"Sho are you," Raul said, laying a heavy hand on Chesta's shoulder.

"Oh, look at the pretty fire!" Diana exclaimed, hanging onto Chesta's other arm and pointing a wavering finger at the bonfires that roared and crackled not ten paces away, towering above them to blot out the stars.

Gatti was morosely examining his empty mug as he leaned against a convenient stack of wood.  "All gone," he mourned, turning it upside down.

"I think someone put some extra alcohol or something in the cider," Alethea whispered aside to Colin, her face the same rosy shade as her twin's.  Colin nodded.  So far, all he had drunk was one mug of the cider, but his friends had to be on at least their fourth or fifth.  Judging from the way it was affecting them, abstinence seemed like a good idea.  _It's a good thing that everyone is at least as drunk as they are, or this would be pretty embarrassing._  The band had relocated to the outskirts of town when the bonfires started and were now playing a fast-paced dance tune for those still sober enough to stand on their feet.  Cora and Corwin had collapsed from exhaustion before the third watch had even been set; Madam Thuban had obviously been prepared for this, for she smiled as she and her husband each took up one of the sleeping children.  "Have fun at the bonfires!" she had called out to them before turning for home and bed.  Alethea leaned against Colin, her head on his shoulder, her face softened by the flickering light of the bonfire.  Her eyes began to close.  Colin put an arm around her.  _She's letting me hold her!  Good thing I haven't had much of the cider or I might forget this by tomorrow.  Then again, probably not.  I wonder why I've fallen for her so quickly.  It's not just because she's so pretty, but there's also who she is.  I'm feeling like I've known her years instead of hours…_  As Colin ruminated over the sometimes bizarre workings of Love, he caught a glimpse of flame-tinted silver out of the corner of his eye.  Startled, he focused on it.  _Am I seeing things?_  Tendrils of short silver hair glinted above a face concealed by a flame demon's leering countenance that stared intently at its fierce element.

_"Alone!  No!  Please!"  Celena?  But that's impossible…she's couldn't be here…Lord Dilandau?  It must be him, but why do I hear her voice?  Could they share something, some feeling that makes loneliness a terror for them?  Perhaps it's only wishful thinking, but I must be right.  That explains why Lord Dilandau's always so reluctant to give us leave; he can't stand being alone._

Alethea opened her eyes when she felt Colin's body stiffen.  She stared up at him, but his face was turned away, his eyes fixed on some person or something beyond the flames.

"What is it?" she murmured.

"Lord Dilandau."  The name escaped unbidden from his lips.  "My commander…he's over there."

"Where is he?" Gatti asked, sitting bolt upright, disbelief ringing in his voice.

"Right there," Colin said, indicating with his head, "The one dressed like a flame demon."

"Oh, shit!" Raul gasped, "What do you think he wants?"

"I don't know," Colin answered, "He's just standing there, staring at the fire."  _Alone._  Alethea struggled to her feet.  "Where are you going?"

"To ask him to join us," she replied and began walking in Lord Dilandau's direction before anyone could do or say anything.

"Stop her!" Gatti gasped.

"What's wrong?" asked a bewildered Diana, "She's just asking him to join us.  It's not like she's inviting the Evil One to dinner."  The three boys glanced at each other with wide, panicked eyes.  "Right?"

"On your feet everyone!" Alethea ordered, standing before them apparently unscathed.  Behind her stood the flame demon.  "We're going to start a fire ring.  You'll join us for that, won't you?" she asked the demon, who nodded wordlessly.  "Come on, guys, it'll be fun!"  Colin rose slowly, trying very hard not to gape.  Raul and Ches were not quite as successful.  Alethea linked arms with him and the demon, who had yet to say anything.  Diana took the demon's other arm, Chesta on her free side, then Luma, then Gatti.  Raul grabbed a passing maiden in the garb of a wolf person and began bellowing, "Fire ring!  Fire ring, everyone!  Anybody who can stand on their feet had better join in!"  His voice carried quite well and the band obliged him by striking up the haunting melody of the fire ring dance, a flute's song melding with the subtle thrumming of a harp.  There were shouts and catcalls as the townspeople joined the small group, which soon enclosed the bonfire.  The melody gained speed as the drums and other strings joined in and the ring began circle the flames, first in one direction, then the other.  Soon the pace was so ferocious that some dancers fell to the side, laughing at their failure to keep up.  The band ended with one final flourish and those still on their feet collapsed, giggling and calling to those who had fallen out before the end.

The demon looked to either side, absorbing the sight of Colin, Alethea, and the others laughing, their faces red and shining, the light of joy in their eyes surpassing the brilliance of the fire.  If anyone had been listening quite closely, they might have heard the sound of a choking sob quickly swallowed, followed by a deep sigh.  Like a shadow, the demon slipped away, his passage witnessed only by one pair of compassionate eyes.  _Good night, Lord Dilandau.  I hope, for at least this small space of time, you were happy and knew you were not alone.  Of course, you will never be alone as long as anyone of us has breath in his body._

"He looked so lonely," Alethea whispered to him, "I just couldn't leave him like that.  I know something about what he's like from Ches, and he just sounded like a person in need of friends."

_Your heart has Love enough to keep even the loneliest soul from despair.  That is why you are beautiful._  "Have I told you…how beautiful you look tonight?" Colin asked.

"Not in so many words," Alethea responded with a quiet smile, "but thank you."

"What are you doing, Colin?"

"Writing a letter."

"To who?"

"What does it matter?  Leave me alone!"

"Oh he's blushing, I know who it's for!"

"Shut up, Gatti!"

"Hm…no.  Hey, Raul, Ches, Colin's writing to…mphf!"

"Shut up!"

"That's so cute!  Let me see it!"

"Hey, give that back, Raul!"

"Over here, Raul!  She's my sister!"

"'Dear Alethea'…you couldn't come up with a more creative beginning?  You know, 'Dearest Alethea' or 'My Dearest Heart' or something like that?"

"Raul, I'm warning you…"

"'I am writing to you from my new post on the Vione, one of Zaibach's floating fortresses…'"

"Couldn't you be a little more romantic?  You should write, 'Winter on the Vione is cold, even though I am high above the clouds, for the sun has no warmth when I am not with you.'"

"Hey, that's pretty good, Gatti."

"Come on Colin, write that down!"

"All right, all right."

"And put down that part about 'My Dearest Heart ' at the beginning.  Alethea would like that."

"How do you know?"

"I'm her brother, I've heard her and Diana talking about stuff like that."

"Oh, yeah."

"What were you doing spying on your sister and her friend?"

"Er…"

"Um, what should I put next?"

"How about, 'I long to see you again, for you are the first person whose face I recall whenever I think of those who I have left behind.'?"

"Good.  Got it. 'I remember how we danced during Aratás and I smile when I remember the way your face shone like the sun in the light of the bonfire.'"

"I think he's got it!  Now write, 'But the sun pales in comparison to your beauty if I am to speak truthfully.'"

"Gatti, how much experience have you had in writing love letters?"

"More than Colin and that's what matters.  Hey, what are you doing now?"

"'I am a poor writer of letters, as you can obviously tell by the clumsy way these words speak to you.  I only hope that you can hear my voice through them and smile fondly at the memories we share.'  I'm not so good with prose, so I'm just going to finish with a poem."

"Well, get on with it!"

"No way!  I thank you for helping me write, but when I write a poem for someone, it is shared between me and that person alone."

"Uh oh, he's got that stubborn look in his eye.  We'd better leave the poet to his sonnet or whatever he's going to do."

"Thanks, Ches."

"Hey, no problem.  Just try not to be too mushy."

"Got it."

_The stars did not shine the night I loved you_

_for they would have been shamed._

_I saw your heart that night, a bright jewel more_

_brilliant than their light named_

_to be the purest by the poets of old who had_

_not held your hand or felt your_

_gentle head in slumber against their shoulder._

_In Love, none has more_

_in their heart than you, sweet lady, Love freely_

_given to all who come to you._

_My humble heart beats with yours, even though_

_we are far apart; one beat for two_

_souls, one light for two eyes that search the skies_

_for that perfect shining star._


	7. The Coming of Mars

**_Of Dragons and Destiny: Chapter VI_**

**_The Coming of Mars_**

****

_"Men at some time are masters of their fates:_

_The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,_

_But in ourselves, that we are underlings."_

_ ~ Shakespeare, _"Julius Caesar" 

"Secondary strike team, stand down." The dispassionate mechanical voice reverberated through the hangar, halting all activity. Anxious eyes turned automatically toward the box the voice was coming from. "Secondary strike team, stand down," the voice repeated. It was immediately followed by a loud click, signaling another message. "Maintenance crews, report to your docking bays. Maintenance crews report to your docking bays." There was a humming noise and the voice went dead.

Colin let out the breath he had been holding and began going through the shut-down sequence for his guymelef, his mind preoccupied. _Were they successful? They wouldn't tell us to stand down unless…yes, that must be it. Calling for the maintenance crews is standard procedure in any situation, you know that. But suppose something else…_

"Colin, what do you think?" Raul asked him, the strain in his voice clear even over the com-link.

"They must have been successful. They had the stealth cloaks after all and we've all trained hard for this type of stuff. Gatti's the best man Lord Dilandau could have chosen to lead them and Chesta's the best pilot out of all of us…" Colin knew that he was babbling, but everyone had been on edge ever since the launch order came down earlier that day. The last of the fluid drained away and the hatch opened with a hiss of steam. Colin jumped down and waited for Raul to get out of his guymelef.

"Of course they completed the mission," Raul said calmly, letting himself drop from _Nemesis_'s control chamber. Colin resisted the urge to shake his head; Raul's temperament was sometimes as changeable as Lord Dilandau's, though it seemed to have gotten worse ever since they had begun this series of raids, or "exercises" as Command euphemistically called them. Fanelia would be the last, the one all the other raids had built up to.

"It's just that since we're not down there with them, I can't help but be worried," Colin admitted. A crew of mechanics rushed by, rudely pushing Colin into his guymelef in their haste.

"Hey you jerks!" Raul called after them, "Watch where you're going!"

"It's all right," Colin said, "We'd better get out of their way before the primary strike team gets in." He pulled Raul over to the nearest stairwell, which led up to one of the catwalks overlooking the hangar. "I want to watch for Gatti and Chesta."

"Those guys need to have some manners taught to them," Raul grumbled as they climbed the steps, "_We're_ the ones out there putting our lives on the line and they don't treat us with any respect. One them even had the nerve to call Gatti, "boy"!"

"Well to them, we are just boys," Colin pointed out as he reached the last step. But Raul continued muttering darkly as if he had not heard him. Colin sighed. _Let him get it out of his system before you try reasoning with him. Better yet, just keep your mouth shut and let him vent. If this how he deals with stress, that's fine, even if it happens to give you a headache._ He leaned on the guardrail of the catwalk. Staring out towards the mouth of the hangar, Colin could see the flame-colored sky, trailed here and there with cinnabar clouds. "_Good luck with sunset red, but at sunrise, Luck's abed." We need good omens. I can't shake this feeling…it's like my skin's too tight. And this isn't the first time it's happened…intuition, perhaps…either that or Fate isn't through with me just yet. I would have thought I would have stopped being so nervous by now, but it just seems to get worse every time. _

"…you would have been on the same team," Raul was saying. He noticed that Colin was staring out at the sky as if he had not heard a word Raul was saying. "Hey, Colin!" Raul barked, punching his friend in the arm.

"Ow!" Colin yelped, jerked out of his trance. He glared at Raul. "What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing his injured limb.

"You spaced out on me there," Raul said, "I hate it when people do that!"

"Think you'd be used to it by now," Colin muttered.

"What did you say?" Raul asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Forget it," Colin said, not wanting to start an argument with an already edgy Raul. "What were you saying?"

Raul snorted and rolled his eyes, but answered, "I was saying that you really should have been on the primary strike team too, if you hadn't insisted on showing yourself to those Basramian pigs during that raid on Garing. Boy, Lord Dilandau was pissed with you about that one!"

"I remember," Colin said, his jaw aching at the memory.

_"Never endanger your teammates in such a manner again! Is that understood, Slayer?"_

_ "Yes, Lord Dilandau."_

_ "You are dismissed."_

_ "Colin, why did you do that? Did you forget how your stealth cloak worked or something?"_

_ "Colin's not incompetent, Chesta, he's just an idiot! Colin, I know you don't like those cloaks of ours in combat, but you have to use it or else you endanger everyone else."_

_ "Raul's right, Colin. This was our first real combat experience, which is probably why you got off so easily, but you can't do that again, and not just because it reveals who we are, but because you will be the only target. You almost got killed out there and that was a simple raid next to the training we've gone through together."_

_ "Why did you do it?"_

_ "I felt like a coward, striking down an enemy that could not see me. I know that we're supposed to be a secret weapon, but I just can't stand…"_

_ "Colin, get your head out of la-la land! You're not a knight and this is not a battle you can win with your outdated views of honor and courage! Our objective is to secure the future of Zaibach, period, end of story. You might not like it, but you swore an oath and to break that oath by putting your personal honor above your duty to Lord Dilandau and _**to us**_ is an even more shameful, more…more…more…I don't want to talk about this anymore. If any of you want me, I'll be in my room."_

_ "Raul, wait…!"_

_ "Let him go, Ches. He needs to cool down a little bit, that's all."_

_ "Gatti, do you agree with what he said? Do you think I'm living a fantasy?"_

_ "Well…"_

_ "I understand. I'm sorry. I won't do anything so stupid again…"_

"Eh, at least you wound up the sub commander of the secondary team. Could have been worse, you could've ended up in the reserve,"Raul remarked.

"That means nothing and you know it," Colin said bitterly.

"What ever you say," Raul answered in an off-handed manner, but he peered anxiously at his friend. "Colin…"

"What is it?"

"Uh…nothing," Raul said, averting his eyes. He was not very good with talking about a person's, even a friend's, feelings; that was Chesta's expertise. "So, if they were successful, do you think that means the war is over for us?"

"Maybe. Probably not though," Colin answered, "Even though we've taken care of our primary mission, we'd still be useful as a Special Forces unit for…what ever they do with Special Forces."

"Yeah, that's right," Raul said, grinning. His eyes glinted gold in the light of the setting sun. "Some of the guys were saying that since the Dragon was the objective, we'd be deactivated because there would be no need for a war. But any way I look at it, fighting's inevitable and the army always has use for good soldiers. I don't want this to end before I get some kills of my own."

"What?" Colin blurted, aghast at Raul's careless manner. _Did he…does he think of this as some sort of game? Gaea, he's become cold ever since Garing. It's like he doesn't care that the guymelefs we go up against have men inside of them. They are our enemies and we are the side fighting for right, but we must have some respect for them or this becomes a dishonorable slaughter of animals, not an honorable war! Maybe I misunderstood him…_

"Look, I know you guys think you're fighting only for the glory of Zaibach and all that," Raul said, "But I happen to know that war is a dirty business that no one should have to take care of but the soldiers who are willing to fight for their comrades and their own survival. The only glory in war comes from defeating an enemy who will kill you if you don't kill him; the more you kill, the more you're looked on as a hero. If you survive, you've only proved that you're better at killing others than being killed. It's as simple a matter as that."

_He sounds like Sergeant Berenger._ "So you don't believe what we're fighting for?" Colin asked.

"I try not to make this too personal," Raul said, "If you do that, you'd probably go insane because you'll eventually realize you're a murderer. Ideals are fine for idealists, but you're looking at the most realistic son-of-bitch in Zaibach." Raul pointed his thumb at his chest, a half-mocking smirk quirking the corners of his mouth. "I'm gonna survive this war and I'm gonna be a hero because I'm gonna kill anyone who stands in my way."

Colin could only stare at him in disbelief. Tact was never Raul's strong point, but Colin found that he was shocked by his friend's bluntness. _At least he's not afraid to admit what he believes, even though he knows not many people would approve. I have to admire him for that._ "You'll understand if this idealist continues to believe that we're serving a higher purpose here," Colin said, mirroring Raul's grin. The two of them burst out laughing.

"I wonder who the joke's going to be on when this is all over," Raul said.

"I suppose we'll just have to see," Colin replied. The familiar whine of Alseides engines reached his ear. "Here they come!"

"There's Guimel's guymelef," said Raul, "Viole's…holy shit! What happened to Dalet?!"

"And Chesta!" Colin exclaimed as the _Diana_ almost crashed into one of the docking bays. Both Chesta's and Dalet's guymelefs were missing a limb, although Chesta's looked the worse for the battle. It was a miracle that he had been able to pilot it at all with the damage it had sustained. _Astrea_ arrived, last into the hangar as Gatti made sure that each boy on his team made in safely.

"Come on!" Raul shouted, running over to the stairwell. Colin was right behind him as they galloped down the steps and sprinted over to Chesta's docking bay, weaving in and out of the personnel already on the floor of the hangar.

"What happened?!" Colin called out to Gatti, who was just emerging from his guymelef. The sub commander clambered down the ladder his crew had just put in place and dropped the last five rungs to the floor. His face was grim as he met his friends' anxious stares.

"The Dragon got away," he said.

"What?!"

"Fanelia's in ashes, as Lord Dilandau ordered, but the Dragon escaped," Gatti elaborated.

"How?" demanded Raul. Colin was looking up with worried eyes to _Diana's _control chamber, which had yet to open. Something had slashed a deep gash into the top part of the canopy, above the eye slit. _Chesta couldn't be wounded if he had managed to pilot his guymelef back to the _Vione _as well as he did, could he?_

"I don't know what happened," Gatti answered, shaking his head, "One moment, it looked like the Dragon was about to surrender, next thing we know, poof!" Gatti snapped his fingers and shrugged.

"Did he fight his way through you or something?" Colin asked. Gatti shook his head again.

"No. What our esteemed colleague is trying to avoid admitting is that the Dragon has vanished," Chesta said as he pried himself out of the damaged control chamber.

"Chesta, are you all right?!"

"Yeah," replied Chesta, climbing down his ladder. There was a small cut on his forehead, but he did not appear to be injured anywhere else. However, he was pale and visibly shaken.

"This is the last time I'm going to say this," Raul said impatiently, "What the hell happened down there?"

"We got through the outer wall no problem," Gatti said, "I assigned everyone a section of the city, with a vector toward the palace. It was textbook; we got through their infantry and first guymelefs no problem."

"No surprise there," Raul said.

"But the closer we got to the palace, the better their resistance. You know how hard street fighting is, especially if the defenders have the home ground advantage. So we got kind of hung up about a block from the palace."

"Dalet and I were the first to penetrate to the inner courtyard, where the building housing the Dragon was supposed to be," Chesta inserted.

"I gave them the order to seek out and destroy the target," said Gatti, "I figured that if the Dragon somehow managed to get past them, the rest of us would have fought our way through by that time and we could have surrounded him."

"And that didn't happen," Colin prodded. Gatti and Chesta exchanged looks.

"The Dragon got through us. Dalet missed him somehow with his Crima claw and he attacked so quickly that Dalet's guymelef lost an arm. I tried to help out, but this old man with a huge sword blocked my blow and then attacked me!"

"I told him to fall back to the courtyard so we could help him. I managed to kill his attacker," said Gatti, "We had the Dragon surrounded."

"And then what happened?"

"All of a sudden," Chesta said, "A column of light appeared and…the Dragon was gone."

Colin and Raul blinked and stared at their friends in disbelief. "That's what happened!" Chesta insisted, "Don't look at me like I'm insane! Ask Gatti or the others, they were there, they saw it too!"

Colin and Raul looked to Gatti, who looked almost angry as he nodded in confirmation. "I just can't believe it happened!" Gatti sputtered, "It's impossible!"

"It happened, you were right there, the Dragon's gone, we failed our mission!" Chesta retorted, "Why do you keep insisting that something like that isn't possible?"

"I…" Gatti began. He was interrupted by the crackle of static and Lord Dilandau's voice over the intercom.

"Dragon Slayers, report to the debriefing room, on the double. _All_ Dragon Slayers report to the debriefing room."

"Ow," Chesta commented once they were a safe enough distance away from the debriefing room, or, as Raul liked to call it, "Lord Dilandau's Smackdown Parlor." He raised a hand to touch the bruise on his cheek, thought the better of it, and dropped it to his side with a sigh. The four boys turned down the corridor that led to their quarters.

"I should have been the one to get the beating," Gatti said, clenching his fist and frowning, "I was the one I charge, I was the one who gave you the order to attack before we had all gotten there. It's _my_ fault that yours and Dalet's guymelefs were damaged!"

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," said Chesta, "You saw an opportunity and took it! We might not have even gotten a crack at the Dragon if you hadn't sent us in. You're a good leader, Gatti. Besides, everyone makes mistakes some time in their life."

"Yeah," agreed Raul, "Don't think that one mistake is an excuse to hang up your commander's scabbard. I mean, who on the primary strike team would replace you? Guimel?" Raul laughed, then noticed that his friends were not joining him. "Eh heh…yeesh, I'm just trying to help you feel better!" he grumped.

"You're right," Gatti sighed, "But it's still my responsibility as a leader to deal with the consequences."

"Yeah, yeah," said Raul, rolling his eyes, "I'm beginning to think you hang around with Colin too much; you're starting to become all duty-conscious and honor-bound." He waggled his fingers at Colin and Gatti as if he were casting a spell over them.

"And that's a bad thing?" Colin asked in a half-jesting, half-dangerous tone as he raised an eyebrow. He got in front of Raul and halted, causing his other friends to stop short.

"When it makes Gatti act like you, it is," Raul shot back with smirk.

"So you're suggesting that he take this matter like you would," Colin replied.

"I'm sure that was supposed to be an insult," said Raul, "but yes, I do think Gatti should take it like I would. Better to go on living than stewing I one's failures, I say."

"Not everyone has your carefree outlook on life," Colin snorted, "Some of us have to be adults, you know."

"Last time I got a look at your file, _Delios_, you were three days younger than me!" Raul growled.

"Guys, hey!" exclaimed Chesta, putting himself between them, "Don't be fighting each other! You're on the same team!" 

Raul and Colin glared daggers at each other for several tense moments; Chesta was prepared to intervene if either of them threw a punch. Gatti chose not to open his mouth, but his face showed his concern.

"_TTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBBBBBBBBPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!_"

"Ah, geez, Raul, you raspberried all over me!" Colin shouted. Actually, he was laughing so hard that no one really understood him.

"I win, I win!" Raul crowed, doing a victory dance. Chesta and Gatti stared at him as if he were insane. Colin took one look at their faces and began howling with laughter again. He was laughing so hard that he fell over and lay on the floor, giggling.

"What's the matter with Delios?" Migel asked, arriving on the scene. Behind him Damon and Myr were looking down at Colin with astonished expressions.

"Yeah, what's with him?" Myr queried, "Sir Colin _never_ laughs."

"He's cracked," Damon concluded, tapping the side of his head with a finger, "Always knew it would happen, sooner or later."

"Hee hee…hey I take offense to that," Colin protested weakly, sitting up.

"Which one?" asked Raul, reaching down to help him up, "The name or the fact that everyone here thinks you're nuts?"

"I have a sense of humor," Colin said, as he brushed the dust off of his clothes, "Anyone would have to, if they were your friend."

"Why? Because they would eventually benefit from being in the presence of the one true Master of Comedic Timing?"

"Nope, because only someone with a sense of humor could put up with your crap for more than five minutes," answered Colin.

"He does have a point," Chesta remarked as Raul sputtered, trying to find a venomous enough come back. Gatti was laughing almost as hard as Colin had been.

Myr, Damon, and Migel exchanged glances before edging down the hall. "Since when did they start letting maniacs into the army?" Myr wondered.

That touched off another round of laughter. "You guys had me worried," Chesta said after a while, "I really thought you were serious." The four friends began walking again.

"Yeah, we didn't really plan on it," Raul admitted, "but for some reason, it was just such a stupid argument and such a great opportunity, we couldn't pass it up."

"Besides, you guys could've used a good laugh," Colin mused, "We all needed it. There's been so little to laugh about lately." He frowned.

"Looks like Sir Colin's back to ops normal," observed Gatti.

Colin grunted. "Since when have people been calling me that?"

"Since we left Fort Prolieato," Chesta answered, "It just seemed to fit, the way you always took things like honor so seriously."

"And yet no one was brave enough to say it to my face until just now," Colin remarked ironically. His friends shrugged. "I guess there are worse names."

"Hey, does anyone want to go to the mess hall?" Raul blurted, "I'm hungry and it _is_ practically dinner time."

"You and your stomach," Gatti said, "I surprised you haven't eaten your way through all the supplies on this fortress."

"I'm trying my best," Raul rejoined with a sniff, "It's a hard job for just one man to do, without any help from you slackers."

"Slackers, huh?" Gatti demanded, "How about whoever's the last person to the mess hall has to play waiter?" He slapped Raul on the back, almost unbalancing him, then started running back the way they had come, toward the mess hall. "Move, slackers!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Son-of-a…!" gasped Raul. Colin and Chesta were already at the corner. "Hey, no fair! Grr…get back here!" he shouted, racing after them.

Lord Dilandau walked into Colin's quarters without knocking, which was to be expected. What was unexpected was that the first words out of his mouth were in the form of a question, not to mention the question itself.

"What do you know about Allen Schezar?"

Colin thanked the higher powers that his father had drilled into him the ability to keep up an emotionless façade under any circumstance. He remained at attention, keeping his eyes riveted on a spot on the wall in front of him. _Besides the fact that he's your brother, there is nothing much I could tell you._ "Allen Schezar is a Knight Caeli, one of the Company of Twelve, the highest order in the Knights. He…" Colin's speech was interrupted by a vicious backhand.

"Do not tell me things I already know!" Lord Dilandau snapped. He narrowed his eyes. "And look at me when you are talking. I don't like people who can't look me in the eye; it makes me think they're hiding something."

_I'm not hiding anything…except for the truth about your identity. _Colin shifted his gaze and met Lord Dilandau's glare without flinching. "Sir, what would you like to know about Sir Allen?"

Lord Dilandau smiled a small, secret smile. "You were practically a Heavenly Knight yourself once and I seem to remember you had the opportunity of meeting him. Tell me about him. What kind of man is he?" Lord Dilandau drifted over to Colin's desk and looked down at the papers scattered across it, as if Colin's answer mattered very little to him.

"He is an honorable man," Colin answered carefully, "He believes in the code of chivalry and would uphold its tenets at the cost of his own life." Colin paused, wondering what Lord Dilandau was getting at. _I'll play your game, Lord Dilandau, but I don't intend to come out of it the loser. If you are interested in finding out where my loyalties lie through this round about way, I'm sure you'll find that I am as true to my oath to you as I am true to the code of the Knights, though I share no allegiance with them any longer._

"I have heard rumors about him," Lord Dilandau said, picking up the report Colin had been working on, "I have heard that he is a swordsman of impressive skill and a better-than-average guymelef pilot. But mostly I have heard about the attention he pays to women."

"I have heard of such rumors," said Colin, mastering the instinctive anger that flared up at a slur directed at one of the Knights, "I cannot say if they are true or false."

Lord Dilandau chuckled and threw the report aside. It fell to the floor with the crackling rustle of a flame devouring wood. "Diplomatic, I see," he said, folding his arms across his chest, "Did your father teach you that?"

Colin did not answer.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm asking you these questions," Lord Dilandau drawled. He held his chin in one hand and stared at Colin, as if weighing whether or not continue. "I have just received word from Emperor Dornkirk himself that the Dragon has fled to an outpost on the Asturian/Fanelian border. Apparently, this outpost is important enough that the Knights Caeli have seen fit to install one of their own as commander there."

Colin saw the bait but asked the question anyway. "Sir, what does Sir Allen's character have to do with the fact that the Dragon happens to be at the outpost he is commanding?" _And why would the Knights send _Allen Schezar_ to such a remote, backwater location? The Company of Twelve are meant only for the highest duties in the Knighthood…unless those rumors about Sir Allen and the princess were…no, no Knight would so dishonor his oath. Or would he?_

"There is a section in the Caeli code of chivalry that says, 'For my sword is Justice and with it I will defend the weak. I will spare those who beg mercy and give protection to those who ask of it.' Doubtless the Dragon will request such protection. I simply want to know whether or not Allen Schezar would violate his code to hand over a dangerous enemy to an ally." Lord Dilandau leaned against Colin's desk and waited for his answer.

_He knows the Code so well he can quote it off the top of his head? Then again, the Dragon Slayers were modeled off of the Knights. I suppose Lord Dilandau should stop being a surprise to me. As for Sir Allen…_ "He would not violate the code willingly," Colin answered with a bitter taste in his mouth. _I have just signed Sir Allen's death warrant…but then, Lord Dilandau might have planned to kill him all along._ "Unless the Dragon agreed to surrender willingly, Sir Allen is obligated to protect him with his own life." _Not that he would turn over the Dragon anyway, even if he was not so devoted to the code of chivalry, not to Zaibach…_

"Very well," said Lord Dilandau, nodding as if he had predicted Colin's answer. He straightened and began walking towards the door. _He probably knew what I was going to say without even coming all the way here. But there is one small matter I must know…I cannot go on thinking that _I_ was responsible…_

"Lord Dilandau, may I ask a question?" Colin called after him. Lord Dilandau halted but did not turn around. "Sir, will you attack if Sir Allen does not surrender the Dragon?"

"Why, Colin, I do believe there was concern in your voice," Lord Dilandau said, "Surely you know the answer." He looked over his shoulder at Colin, a cold smile on his face.

"Sir, Asturia is an ally…" Lord Dilandau's fist hit him in the solar plexus without warning. Green and purple filled his vision as Colin collapsed on the floor, trying to suck in a lungful of air.

"I am well aware of our current diplomatic standing." Lord Dilandau said, looking down at him dispassionately, "In a very short time, none of it is going to matter." He waited for Colin to get to his feet. "You will take Dalet's place on the primary strike team _if_ we attack."

"Y-yes, sir," Colin gasped, bowing. Lord Dilandau smirked and strode from the room.

The desk chair creaked as Colin collapsed into it in a daze. He stared at the papers on his desk without seeing them._ If everything goes the way I know it will, I will take part in the murder of Celena's only living kinsman…does my oath to Lord Dilandau mean more than my oath to her? I cannot do anything to prevent it from happening, aside from telling him the truth…as if that would change anything. _Colin held his face in his hands. _Something very terrible will come of this…_

"Does anyone else think that this is a waste of time?" Raul groused, "I mean, we all know that the Dragon's here and the Schezar's not going to just hand it over. What does Lord Dilandau think we're going to accomplish sitting out here on our asses for hours on end watching this stupid castle? Not like Schezar's dumb enough to parade the Dragon around in front of us."

"Raul, more scouting, less talking," Chesta ordered with an irritated voice.

"Was that a command just now?" Raul shot back, "And this is not scouting. Scouting involves moving around, trying to find something. What we're doing is low-class spying for no other reason but that Lord Dilandau can't think of anything better for us to do."

Colin was listening to this exchange over the com-link as he peered through his periscope at the eastern side of the castle. _ I'm only glad Sir Allen did not recognize me._ He allowed himself a small smile as he reflected over what was no doubt going through Raul's mind._ He's probably going crazy with boredom. He's our best recon guy and he knows a job like this is beneath him._

"Raul, this is a stealth mission," Chesta said, "Stealth implies quiet."

"Like anyone's going to be wandering around out here. This is the backwater of backwaters, Ches. Besides, if someone was able to hear me, which would be pretty damned impossible, what could they do? Tell everyone that they're hearing voices?"

"Well then, shut up so I don't have to listen to your whining," Chesta retorted.

"I'm not whining, I'm merely pointing out that this is stupid. Hey Colin, don't you think this is stupid?"

"No comment," Colin answered, "Although, the _Vione_ can only monitor the fortress from the air. If Sir Allen was to try and slip the Dragon out by some sort of tunnel system or whatnot, then only people of the ground would be able to report such activity."

"Oh," said Raul.

"See, I told you this wasn't a waste of time," Chesta said smugly.

"No you didn't," retorted Raul, "You couldn't think of a good reason for us to be out here, either."

"Oh shut up."

"Make me. Hey, do you guys remember that chick Sir Allen kissed?"

"Yeah," said Colin, rolling his eyes at the tone in Raul's voice.

"Uh huh," Chesta answered, "That was really gross, too. She looked about our age and he's what, maybe six or seven years older than her? It was like seeing some older guy kissing my sister." There was a pregnant pause after this statement. "What?" Chesta demanded, "Don't tell me you guy's didn't think that it's gross that a girl our age is that guy's lover!"

"Whatever you say, Ches," Raul said with a chuckle, "Besides, I'm sure you don't mind that Colin kisses Alethea, even if he is about a year older than her."

"Of course, not that totally different…wait, Colin, you've kissed my sister?!"

"Hey, it was only that last time we visited your house! And she kissed me!" Colin explained hastily. He was very glad that there was a fortress between his and Chesta's position. _Note to self: kill Raul when we get back to the _Vione._ She was only kissing me good bye, after all. Next leave, I'll kiss her…that is, if Chesta ever lets me see her again…_

"Heads up guys!" Chesta exclaimed suddenly, "The Dragon's out in the open! It looks like there's going to be a guymelef duel over here!"

"The white guymelef is the Dragon, right?" Raul asked. His position was higher than either Chesta's or Colin's, so he had the best overall view of the fortress.

"Yes," Chesta answered, his voice tense.

"Who's the other one?" Colin wanted to know. He almost thought about changing his position, but discarded this thought immediately; he had been assigned this sector, and he would have to stay with it.

"It's an Asturian model," Chesta answered, "Galahad-class."

"It's the _Scheherazade_," Colin said with certainty, "That's Sir Allen's guymelef." _Sir Allen's dueling against the Dragon? Why…?_

"Bet you fifty that the Dragon takes the Knight," Raul piped up, "Any takers?"

"I'll take you up on that," Colin said, "Sir Allen's the best guymelef pilot in Asturia, everyone knows that."

"Yeah, maybe," Raul agreed, "But if our primary mission is the Dragon, whoever's the pilot has got to have some skills to make him worth razing a country for."

"You might be wrong there, Raul," Chesta said, "The Dragon has a lot of guts coming at his opponent like that, but it looks like Schezar…hm, that was over rather quickly."

"Who won?" Colin asked, although Raul's cursing told him all he needed to know.

"Schezar did," Chesta replied, "I'm going to send up a report to Lord Dilandau, confirming the Dragon's presence."

"Joy," Raul grunted, "Maybe we'll finally be able to get out of here. It really stinks that I won't be in on the attack with you guys. Dalet's pretty sore with you about that, Colin."

_If I could change places with him, I would._ "Try not to envy me too much," Colin answered with feigned lightness.

"I'm sorry but the patient is not allowed to receive visitors at this time, so you'll just have to come back…"

"Look, we're his friends and we want to see him! Lodge a complaint with our commander if you want, but we're going to see him right now!"

"Hey, Raul, calm down! She's just trying to do her job."

"Thank you, young man."

"Please, ma'am, can we see him? I'm his wingman and I really want to see if he's…"

"Ches? That you?"

"Now you've woken him up! Please leave the infirmary this instant so he can rest! He was in a serious accident…"

"We are aware of that, ma'am; we were on the same mission with him."

"Nurse, please, I feel fine."

"Oh, all right. The moment you feel tired, you lay down and get some sleep, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How are ya feelin', Gatti?"

"Remember that time you smuggled that liquor onto the _Vione_ after our last furlough?"

"…yeah…"

"Multiply the hangover by ten and that's what I feel like."

"Ow."

"I'm just so glad you're alive. I'm your wingman, I should have stayed behind to make sure you were all right."

"Don't feel badly, Ches; Lord Dilandau gave you the order to pursue and you didn't really have a choice. So, how did it go?"

"We captured Escaflowne. You'll never guess who the pilot was."

"The King of Fanelia, right? Colin, we all knew that…"

"It was that guy who called us cowards for fighting with stealth cloaks. The one in Sir Allen's fortress."

"That guy was the king of Fanelia?! He didn't look like he could fight with that sword of his, let alone pilot a guymelef! You're joking, right?"

"No, he's not."

"Lord Dilandau has us going out in shifts to look for the Asturian skiff that Schezar used to escape us."

"Really? What for?"

"So Schezar won't be able to inform his superiors about our attack on his post. The Asturians might interpret something like that as an act of war, you know."

"Hey, ease up! I have a mild concussion here!"

"Sorry."

"Any luck so far?"

"Nope. Matter of fact, Colin and I are scheduled to go out on the next shift in a little while. Ches can stay here to keep you company."

"Actually, the best thing you guys could do is to try and convince the nurse over there to release me."

"Do you really think that's a good idea, Gatti?"

'Yeah, I mean, just a second ago you were complaining that you felt like death warmed over. You still look like it, too."

"Har har, Raul. Really, I feel fine. Besides, there's still a mission to finish here. I should be the one organizing the teams and…"

"See, I told you he's been hanging around Colin too much."

"Very funny, Raul."


End file.
